Contradictory Contrast
by Pandora'sPersona
Summary: We know the tragic story of Mavis Vermillion's supposed death in X697. What if Zeref realized Mavis wasn't dead, and as a result Precht never had the chance to create Fairy Heart? The legendary couple embark on a journey to accept themselves by first accepting each other.
1. Chapter 1: The Wolf And The Sheep

**Warning: Rated M for explicit sex. Triggers include themes of death, self-harm and attempted suicide/suicidal ideation, though I didn't write with the intent to depress myself or others.**

_March, X696_

_Magnolia, Western Forest_

The woods were filled with the cheerful chirps of birds and rustling noises made by an assortment of small animals, ranging in variety from beetles to bunnies. The forest floor was partially carpeted with scattered leaves, occasionally joined by more as they floated from the maturing green canopy above where mother birds fed their young. A harsh spring windstorm had swept through the region the day before, resulting in a minor disruption of the usual propriety of the ecosystem.

A young girl padded along a well-used path, lost in thought. Mavis Vermillion was not as young as she appeared, chronologically one decade older than her apparent thirteen years, yet she had not lost the idealism and relentless optimism often associated with youth. Although many would call her naïve, Mavis was renowned across the kingdom of Fiore for the extensive role her intelligence and strategy often played in winning battles, earning the title of Fairy Tactician for her ingenious foresight and cunning plans to undermine enemy resistance. Considering her childlike appearance, she was often doubted until the moment her strategizing proved true and the men she commanded admitted that the Master of Fairy Tail possessed more than a mere title.

Mavis brushed a lock of light blonde hair out of her eyes, staring at the pattern of roots and leaves on the ground and her own bare toes as she walked, contemplating history. Recently, after many long years and dreary crusades, the bloody Second Trade War had finally ended under the direction of her Fairy Tail guild in some of the grittier battles. Her friends had been an invaluable source of tactical and emotional support, without whom the war might never have ended. All things are fated to come to an end, however, and a few years had passed in relative peace. Her friend Yuri had even married, and he and his wife Rita were expecting their first child.

The only shadow over those happy days was Mavis's continual state of adolescence, as her body never aged due to the powerful—and incomplete—Black magic spell she had cast a decade earlier as a last resort to save her friends. It was as if she was stuck in a state of perpetual stasis, neither aging nor degenerating. To Mavis, it was a small price to pay for the survival of her friends, but it could be frustrating at times—especially whenever one wanted to be taken seriously, as was the usual expectation of guild masters...

She was abruptly pulled from her train of thought at the distant crunching of footsteps coming from the path ahead of her. Looking up quickly, she gasped at the sight of a black-haired man she'd never expected to see again, his white toga flowing around him to denote a stately appearance to his youthful face.

He had caught sight of her as well, and stopped dead in his tracks as coal black eyes widened in suprise. "Is that you, Mavis?"

Standing before her was the wizard who'd taught her and her friends to use magic—the reason for Magnolia's salvation all those years ago. Mysterious though he was, she had never forgotten his kindness, nor his tragic curse and hauntingly gentle eyes. Her parted lips reforming into a delighted little grin, Mavis laughed, "Oh my gosh, it's so good to see you again!"

Giggling happily, she began a headlong rush at her robed acquaintance, arms outstretched eagerly as she prepared to tackle him head-on. _"Yay!"_

Zeref's hands went up immediately in surprised dismay as he saw how she intended to greet him. Although he didn't wish to spoil their reunion, nor did he want to hurt her with his unpredictably deadly magic.

"Wait, stay back!" he called anxiously. "You shouldn't get close to me!"

Mavis didn't slow down, still laughing gleefully as she ran towards him...as though he wasn't the most powerful and dangerous wizard on earth, as though he hadn't killed more people than he could count. As though he wasn't cursed and the world contained only the two of them. Palms outstretched, Zeref continued in incredulous panic, "I-I'm cursed, remember?"

"I _know!"_ she squealed happily.

"What are you-" he was cut off as she impacted him, knocking the breath from his lungs slightly as she snuggled her cheek against his lower chest and smiled, her big green eyes closing contentedly. His heart skipped a beat and he didn't know what to do with his hands, so he held them at an angle from their embrace. Mavis's sweet voice was filled with gentle gratitude. "I want to thank you. We were able to drive that dark guild out of Magnolia, and it's all because of your help. We saved the town with what you taught us."

Zeref blinked down at her in lingering surprise for another moment, then closed his mouth and reached up to gently pry her arms from around his waist.

"You're welcome," he said with a calmness he wasn't feeling.

It had been years since he'd last interacted with another human, and for that person to be the warmhearted girl he had so often contemplated to keep himself occupied was an ironic twist of fate, indeed. It had been odd for him to do what he did; to teach others to use magic, to befriend a young girl. He wasn't sure why he'd gone out of his way to do so, but in any case he had never forgotten his time with them. And he had treasured that respite from his loneliness, however brief it was.

There was a reason he so often wandered through this forest, though he'd yet to admit it to himself. The ghost of the memory of what could have been would not leave his troubled mind alone, and an uneasy concern he tried not to contemplate disturbed his every thought of the lighthearted blond. Nonetheless, he needed to get her away from himself and the danger he posed as soon as possible. At the same time, he also found himself yearning to ask about her life and friends simply to alleviate his own suffocating loneliness...which was a very bad idea.

Mavis was smiling up at him now, looking like a dishevelled angel as her tip-tilted emerald eyes caught a ray of sunlight. The words he was about to say stuck in his throat, and as he began to clear it he realized his hands were still wrapped around her slender upper arms. Bodily contact was another thing he'd been deprived of, having only a few wisps of memory from his childhood and early teen years of what it was like to touch and be touched. Even when he'd taught Mavis and her friends to use magic, Zeref had kept his distance so as not to harm them. He found himself wanting to pull her close again and run his fingers through her light, wavy hair, and was mildly disturbed by the impetuous urge.

Mavis didn't seem to notice his unsettled hesitation and invited exuberantly, "Why don't you come along with me, and we can talk? I want to tell you all about my guild, and hear about your travels as well!"

Catching his hand, she pulled him along through the woods, and he followed without a thought of rejecting the demand. "I know just the spot—there's a field not far from here, filled with wildflowers. Come on!"

The spell broken, Zeref allowed himself to be tugged through the lush green woods, reasoning that he would only spend a few minutes with her before either sending her on her way or politely excusing himself. Her cheerfulness was contagious, and he found himself enjoying himself (if the precarious emotion could be called enjoyment) for the first time in a while. Ten years, to be precise.

He knew the meadow Mavis spoke of—he'd often lay in it himself, gazing up at the stars at night or meditating to try and control his magic during the day. Of course, he rarely had any success with restraining death magic, but he'd learned to temper it by checking his feelings. On this particular day no flora or fauna had died in his immediate presence. He knew better than to press his luck, however.

They broke through the woods and into a broad clearing filled with a profusion of color in the form of flowers and gentle spring sunlight. Butterflies flitted amongst bluebells and lilies, while the verdant grasses waved to a caressingly soft breeze.

"Isn't it beautiful?" Mavis said reverently. When was the last time Zeref had viewed the world he was cursed to live in as beautiful? He didn't want to remember. The little hand in his squeezed, and he looked down at his side to see her staring at a large rock lying almost in the middle of the small meadow.

"Over there. Let's go!" she suggested. A reluctant smile pulled at his mouth as he followed her to the partial shade offered by the small, sunwarmed boulder and let go of her hand to seat himself in a crosslegged fashion. She sank down beside him and stuck her legs out from under her, her bare little feet wriggling as she looked up at him expectantly. They were sitting close enough for the edge of her dress to touch his robe—the same frilly dress she had worn when last they'd met, he noted. In fact, it seemed as though she hadn't changed at all. Her eyes held that same childish compassion and intelligence, she was still gullible and enthusiastic, and she also appeared to be the same age. Zeref thought little of it, as a decade in the life of an immortal was hardly a considerable quantity of time.

In the light atmosphere between them, however, he was prompted to ask a different question, one that tumbled from his lips before he could call it back. "Why are you always barefoot?"

Mavis blinked, a flush of embarrassment crowning her cheeks at the sincere question. Determining he meant no harm by it, she tried to explain, "It's- well, it's way more comfortable, for one thing! Shoes always seem to imprison my feet, and I love the feeling of the grass and the water flowing over them-" Breaking off, she looked up quickly to ascertain that he wasn't silently laughing at her, but he wore the same respectful expression as before.

A puzzled frown did cross his face, however, as he wavered between wonder that he had ever experienced urges so trivial and amusement that she would indulge them. "Why don't you try it?" she offered suddenly, smiling up at him with guileless charm.

"You want me to remove my boots?" Zeref asked slowly, and she tilted her head in confirmation.

"It's such a pretty day, it'd be a shame not to!"

Filtering through his mind for any logical reason he would have to object and finding none, he disabled the small voice of reason existing independent of his consciousness. Reaching for his boots, he tugged them off leisurely, free from the slightest qualm of pride as he rubbed his bare feet on the ground afterwards. The texture of the cool grass and warm sunlight was strange but pleasant, and he hardly noticed the otherworldly calm steeling over his mind as they sat side by side. It wasn't the apathetic numbness of one who had felt entirely too much for one lifetime, but rather the peaceful stillness following a brutal summer storm.

Crossing his legs again, he was keenly aware of the presence to his left, enjoying the spring day with a wholeheartedness he had forsaken centuries ago. "I love feeling the warmth of the sun," Mavis sighed happily.

Feeling a twinge of genuine curiosity about her life since they had parted, and wishing despite himself to get to know her a little better, Zeref decided to simply ask her. "How have you been, Mavis?"

"Recently, things have been splendid. You may have already heard, but I founded a wizard guild with my friends, shortly after you and I parted ways!"

"What did you name it?" he asked interestedly, unsurprised that he had been correct about her potential. She was a natural leader, possessing the perfect ratio of rationality and kindness to cause others to look up to her.

"Fairy Tail. I wanted to create a force for good in the world, a warm place where people of all backgrounds and talents could feel welcome and useful. It's an eternal adventure, and all because of your help. You helped me see that I could pursue magic at my own pace and accomplish anything through it!"

The happiness on her face was heartwarming, and he glanced away a bit uncomfortably, taking care not to let it show on his features. Her gratefulness when she had met him earlier was beginning to become a little more understandable. "Fairy Tail? An eccentric name, but it suits you."

"Thanks," she smiled. "So, what about you?"

He blinked, caught off guard by the sudden change in topic. It was difficult to adjust to the limitless variations in an unprofessional conversation; being asked personal questions and coming up with answers, for instance, but he found the stimulus enjoyable. "What about me?"

Mavis seemed to ponder the question seriously for a moment. Then, "You could start by telling me your name. I never even asked you, during all the time you taught us." She had often wondered about her teacher after they had parted ways. At the time, she'd been too inexperienced to realize it, but now the young wizard plainly sensed what she had only guessed at before: the man sitting before her emanated a shocking amount of magical power, more than she had ever felt from anyone. He possessed more than a fascinating knowledge of magic and an ancient contradictory curse. He was _powerful_, and she wondered why he wasn't concealing his aura when he certainly could if he desired. Perhaps because he's feeling relaxed? she wondered, ever the analyst.

"Ah yes, forgive me. It's Zeref," he answered her earlier inquiry, his mouth twisted in a wry smile.

The legendary evil wizard Zeref? Growing excited after the initial wave of surprise had passed, Mavis said, "Hold on a minute. You're actually _the_ Black Wizard Zeref? For real?!"

The dark mage suppressed a sigh. There was no going back now, but Mavis's reaction was better than he had expected. He shouldn't have been surprised, as he knew her to be different from everyone else, but another's automatic belief in his innocence would be difficult to ever take for granted. "That's why I didn't want to tell you my name back then," he confirmed with a tinge of regret. _Because I thought you'd run in terror. Apparently I misjudged you, Mavis._

"I've heard that you've been alive for over three hundred years," she continued, her curiosity getting the best of her. "Is that true?"

"It is... Wow. I rarely think about how long it's been." That much was true. Time seemed to meld into an endless flow when one was attempting to live in a state of restraint, with one year differing little from the next.

"I must say, you're nothing like the rumors paint you out to be." Mavis smiled kindly.

"Well, what do they say about me?" Zeref asked in sudden amusement, smiling at her earnest innocence. Closing his eyes to lean further back against the rock, he added carelessly, "The bad stuff's likely true, for the most part."

Mavis's lips parted in surprise that he would denigrate himself so readily, but she recovered quickly enough to demand in disapproval, "Why would you say something like that?"

"Huh?" He looked down at her in bemusement, smile fading.

"I mean your eyes have such a kind and gentle quality to them." She beamed up at him. "I refuse to believe there's a bad person in there."

Understanding, Zeref smiled yet again at her faith in humanity. If her treatment of him had to do with a naïve estimation of his character, it would explain why she was so at ease. "You only say that because you're so innocent," he said knowingly.

Instead of being troubled, she looked a bit pleased by this piece of information and gazed down at the hands in her lap.

Wondering what she was thinking, Zeref sat quietly enjoying the bustling yet tranquil life of the world around them, and of course Mavis's company.

She broke the silence characteristically. "Do you remember Yuri, that hot-blooded friend of mine? Well, he and his wife are about to have their first child!"

"But he's practically still a child himself," Zeref observed, the note of light enjoyment back in his tone.

"You do realize that it's been ten years since you've seen him," she teased, laughter evident in her voice at his opinion of the twenty-seven year old lightning wizard.

"Hm." He inclined his head in acknowledgement. "I suppose I'd forgotten, considering how little you've changed since then."

"Oh. Because I still look the same," she guessed, looking down again. "You're right. I guess that _is_ confusing. I should tell you that to win the battle I cast an incomplete Black magic spell."

His lips parted in disbelief, all color draining from his face as he heard Mavis continue. "But it was the only way I could save my friends...so it was worth it in the end."

She started when Zeref almost shouted, "Don't tell me you used the Law spell!"

His hands cupped both her cheeks, and she gasped as he leaned forward to rest his forehead against hers abruptly, his eyes closed in concentration. Not knowing whether to move or respond, Mavis's cheeks burned with an uncontrollable crimson blush as she stammered, "Whoa! W-what's this about all of a sudden?!"

He didn't reply, heart hammering as the severity of her actions sunk in. His chest was heavy with despair, while shock reverberated through his body in nauseating waves. If there was anything in his stomach to vomit, he didn't doubt he would be heaving on the ground right about now. _How cruel fate is, to mock her this way._

Thoroughly disconcerted by the first time a person of the opposite gender had been so close to her face, not to mention their prolonged contact and Zeref's breath brushing her lips, Mavis's eyelids lowered and she tried breathlessly, "Uh, hey."

He gasped and pulled back, releasing her soft face as suddenly as he'd grabbed it, eyes wide with horror.

She looked up at him in concern. "Something wrong?" Her voice was small.

Wrong? Yes, something was terribly wrong. "You haven't just stopped growing, Mavis," he forced himself to say, voice filled with anguish. "You've become like me—" Mavis gasped, eyes widening, "you won't ever grow old or die!"

Silence fell over them, thick as a suffocating blanket. "What?" she whispered.

"You made a judgement on who lives and dies. That's the purpose of the spell. Now you have the curse of Ankhseram, which means the more value you place on life..." he drew in a small breath and finished, "...the more death will follow you."

Mavis twisted her hands together between her thighs and promptly negated Zeref's words, staring at her feet. "That's not true! 'Cause...that hasn't happened. Nobody just dies around me, so it can't be. I don't have that curse."

"Perhaps that's the case for the time being, but think about this." Zeref studied her, then turned his gaze to his own lap in contemplation, remembering her appreciation for being able to fend off her town. He was no stranger to the multi-year Second Trade War that had ravaged Fiore for some time, either. "That war that went on must have affected you. War tends to dull a person's feelings concerning life and death. I can imagine that your thoughts on all of it are still in a state of flux."

"There's no way!" she cried, cutting him off. "Because I..."

She looked panicked, and Zeref's heart clenched in sympathy. If anyone knew the fear of having no regard for life, he did. Nonetheless he went on stoically. "I hate to say it, but I'm afraid that you've yet to realize the true value of life."

Mavis began shaking_, _tears forming in her eyes._ Please stop! I can't bear it if what you're saying is true..._

"And the moment you discover what that is," his voice was sober, "the people closest to you will start to die."

She gasped in fear, palms moistening the fabric of her dress where they clenched her knees involuntarily. Zeref trained his gaze away from her, forcing the compassion from his heart before he could be pulled into the dangerous vortex of emotion.

"I don't get it." Her voice—so full of kindness and cheer a moment ago—was trembling, on the verge of breaking. "Why are you saying such things? It's cruel."

"It would be much more cruel to lie to you," he replied quietly.

"It's awful," Mavis insisted, unable to equate this man with the one who had held such kindness in his eyes the day they'd first met. _This_ Black Wizard Zeref was calm, controlled, apathetic to the suffering of others, and somehow she felt her heart fracture. Or perhaps it was idealism being flushed down the toilet of reality. "Don't you have feelings?"

He glanced down at her sideways, a faint smirk curving his lips. "You said you didn't believe the rumors about me, but I'd wager you've changed your mind." The words held an undercurrent of ingrained cynicism as he waited for her to do what he'd expected of her, and of everyone he'd ever met, all along.

Mavis didn't notice.

She broke down, jumping to her feet as the first sob escaped. Spurred on by a burst of emotion-fueled energy, she ran...away from the kind-looking man who'd helped her save her city, who'd taught her to utilize her magic, and who was the reason she was cursed. She was vaguely aware of a sense of injustice, that she shouldn't run from Zeref when it was he who'd warned her not to use the spell the same day he taught it to her, but she wanted to be as far from him as possible at the moment.

She needed to know if all he'd said was true. It couldn't be! It was all some sort of a cruel joke he expected her to fall for, though running an analysis of exactly what he'd have to gain by lying to her was the furthest thing from her mind at the moment. Mavis's chest hurt as she ran, and whether it was from lack of oxygen or panic, she didn't care. Tears left a salty taste in her mouth as she instinctively fled to the one place that she knew would inspire her with what action to take next.

The Fairy Tail guildhall in Magnolia, the home she'd built with her friends a decade ago. The dull warning echoing through her mind was ignored in favor of a desperate desire to be comforted.

And in the midst of the field, the deceptively boyish figure she had so abruptly left behind remained sitting with his back against the solid boulder, a smile still gracing his lips as he watched Mavis's long hair wave in the sunlight while she ran away from him—exactly as she should've done in the beginning. Petals drifted softly from a lone tree, brushing against his face and hair in incongruous serenity. Though the crying girl was long out of earshot, he murmered, "Well, it seems like you might have it in you after all. You may be able to walk this path alongside me."

_**A/N:** Read if you're interested in a brief explanation of the story you're investing in; if not, skip to the next chapter._

_1\. Thank you an infinite number of times for choosing to read my little story! I'm honored and grateful for your reads (I know you're lurking, guests), follows and favorites. Reviews of any kind are excessively welcome (not to mention shamelessly begged for)._

_2\. Expect a Zervis-central fic. While the Fairy Tail guild will resurface later on, this storyline will monumentally alter important canonical occurrences in its timeline, though I won't be writing that far into the future. August will also be a main character, though more so as a young child than an adult._

_3\. The history predating the story's beginning is identical to canon except for Irene's presence at Vistarion; in the chronology of this fic, she returned with Zeref soon after he broke her enchantment, serving under his rule and building her skills as an enchantress several decades before Erza was born._

_4\. There will be OCs—more because it's unavoidable than to eat up room in the story, however. Consider them catalysts with personality. One in particular will play a large role in Zervis's development, so consider yourself suitably warned._

_5\. Disclaimer: Inspiration for this fic was drawn from a conglomeration of works by various authors, but predominately from Hiro Mashima himself, to whom I gladly relinquish all rights. If you spot similarities to others' compositions in my own, know that it was never my intention to copy another's original work and piggyback off their creativity to spare myself the hassle of thinking. Rather, all references are either deliberately a tribute to a respected author or (more likely) an accidental parallel. I read very few fics of this nature prior to beginning on my own._

_Lastly, I really hope you enjoy! I greatly appreciate any feedback from you lovely readers, be it positive or negative, so don't be shy. Tell me what you think, if you have a minute and you feel comfortable doing so. Destructive and constructive criticisms are always welcome. ~ Pandora'sPersona_


	2. Chapter 2: Outrunning Karma

"He's a _liar!"_ Mavis sobbed as she sprinted through the woods with blind determination. "How dare he say that to me! I do know the value of life. It's more important than_ anything!"_

She didn't stop running until she saw the many small shops and quaint urban buildings of Magnolia passing by through a blur of tears that burned more than she cared to admit. Her side was aching sharply and her feet were scraped, but the pain barely registered in her mind, all her focus set on reaching the guildhall. Dark clouds shrouded the city in a foreboding gloom, predicting an early spring thunderstorm as white lightning crackled in the distance.

There it was! She stopped to catch her breath when the familiar structure of her beloved home stood before her in all its creative beauty. Excited voices filtered from inside the open wooden doors, and she recognized Warrod's yelling, "Congrats, Yuri, you're a father now!"

"Whoa!" Yuri exclaimed proudly.

A father? Does that mean...

Sure enough, a newborn's first hoarse cry echoed through the guildhall as Mavis hurriedly dried her eyes and stepped inside with eager impatience, her unfortunate discovery all but forgotten. The large hall was littered with tables and chairs, with a few members celebrating the birth by consuming generous quantities of food and drink. A blue sheet had been hung in the corner of the main room, creating a makeshift nook by separating it from the curious onlookers. Mavis darted over and pushed the curtain open to take in the sight of Yuri's young wife, Rita, looking exhausted but radiantly happy in a bed surrounded by her husband and friends. In her arms was the tiniest child she had ever seen, loosely bundled so that only his face was visible.

She slipped inside the partitioned area to stand beside Rita's bed, her eyes never leaving the infant's face as her heart lept with incredible pride for her friend.

"A healthy baby boy," Precht was announcing, as he made a habit of doing whenever an important event occurred.

Yuri appeared overcome with pride and thankfulness for his family's health after a trying day of doing everything he could and fearing it wouldn't be enough. Yet here they were, alive and happy, and he couldn't believe his luck. "I'm so proud of you, Rita. I love you," he told his wife reverently, and she offered him a tired smile, wisps of brown hair plastered to her forehead with sweat.

Mavis didn't hear them, her hands clasped as she stared at the baby whose fresh, pink scalp was covered with yellow fuzz. His eyes were closed, his mouth puckered slightly between tiny, plump cheeks as though trying to nurse, and he whimpered a little at the cold air of the new world surrounding him. In short, he was the cutest creation Mavis had ever seen, and her heart swelled with warmth as the awe finally faded enough for her to exclaim, "Wow! _Cuuute!"_

Precht clapped a hand on Yuri's shoulder and said good-naturedly, "You know, she didn't have to deliver him inside the guildhall."

"What can I say? Rita insisted on it," the new father explained sheepishly.

Struggling to scoot a bit higher on the bed while maintaining a careful hold on the baby, his wife sank back against the pillows and said in her gentle voice, "There's love here. I want my child to feel that from everyone in the guild...it's the most important thing there is."

"You're right about that," Yuri agreed.

Turning her head to look at Mavis, she addressed, "Master Mavis. If you don't mind, could you do the honor of naming him for us?"

"What? Wait—you mean _me?!"_ the recipient of the request asked in surprise.

"That would be a priceless gift," Yuri seconded sincerely.

Precht was smiling, a rare occurrence to say the least, as he advised, "I think that you should name the boy Pipoko."

"For the baby's sake, I don't think you should leave it up to us," Warrod told Mavis ruefully.

Mavis's attention was focused on the infant again, her lips forming a round little O as she watched the minute twitches of his face. It was cuteness overload. Smiling down at him lovingly, she looked up at her friends.

"Makarov," she proclaimed. "I read a story about a kind-hearted king, and that was his name."

"Makarov," Rita exhaled. "It's nice...I like it."

Scooping the baby from her arms carefully, Yuri held him up for all to see in masculine pride.

"Hey, Makarov," he greeted his son gently.

Arms crossed, Precht agreed on the name reluctantly. "Yeah, ok."

"It's awesome!" Warrod enthused. "The kind-hearted boy Makarov."

Pale-faced, Rita smiled up at Mavis. "He's the first of the next generation. He's the future."

"He is." Mavis took the woman's cool hand between hers, noting with concern that the color had fled her cheeks. Should they send for a healer?

Rita licked her lips and painstakingly went on, "The bond we share...is special. Promise me...that we'll..."

Something wasn't right. Gasping, Mavis felt her stomach somersault in apprehension as Rita's breathless voice trailed off. The moment was forever etched into her memory as her friend's hand slipped from her grip, falling to the blanket tucked around her to lay in lifeless immobility. Slowly, those kind brown eyes closed...never to gaze upon the world again.

A thousand memories flashed through Mavis's mind, all of them entailing a gentle chestnut gaze. Introducing Rita to Yuri, laughing and talking to her about his foolhardy recklessness, sharing childhood stories, looking forward to the baby's birth—every flash of mutual history, blotted out in an instant by the sickening invasion of death. All they'd shared was vanishing in tandem with Rita's magic power at an alarming rate, and she could only watch as one last sigh escaped the woman's lips.

Her shocked brain comprehended what her heart could not as voices picked up around her like so much hail on a tin roof. Yuri's, filled with denial and dawning panic. "Rita? Rita! Hey, what's wrong!"

Then Warrod's anxious exclamation. "Having the baby must've taken too much out of her!"

Eyes wide with shock, Mavis slowly stepped backwards as she helplessly watched the scene in front of her play out like some sickening nightmare.

_I hate to say it, but I'm afraid you've yet to realize the true value of life. And the moment you discover what that is..._

"My God. Rita!" Yuri had passed their baby to Precht, and was clutching his dead wife in anguished panic. "Please, stay with me. Ritaaa!"

_...the people closest to you will start to die._

A dark voice echoed inside her head, one she recognized—and it took another moment before she realized it was a memory of words spoken to her less than an hour before. Zeref's warning was all the more chilling for its ominous calmness. In her mind's eye she saw his face, his innocent smile and midnight black eyes.

_He warned me._

Trembling, she stared at the light blue sheet as she backed away to stand in the middle of the guildhall, and slowly her hands came up to clutch the sides of her head. Hyperventilating, she didn't notice when Precht pushed open the curtain, still holding the baby, and glanced at her in surprise.

_He tried to warn me. I didn't listen._

A bloodcurdling scream rent the air, echoing in the rafters of the building desolately. Those who'd heard it could scarcely believe one so small could make such a loud noise...or that it could carry so much anguish. Sobbing, Mavis turned and ran for the second time that day, ignoring the sound of Precht's voice calling her name. In a resolution she had never imagined she would make, she promised herself one thing amidst the chaos scrambling her mind. Never again would she see her friends and fellow guildmates—she would rather kill herself before she brought any more destruction to those she loved.

This time, it wasn't to safety and comfort that she ran. It was to seclusion and loneliness, to the dark woods where she'd met him on that fateful day, as thunder crashed and the first cold raindrops splattered the street. Blind with tears, she tripped and fell flat on her stomach. A pained sound escaped her, but she was up and running again within seconds, as desperate as though the very demons of hell were on her heels. In a way, they were. Nothing short of this catastrophe could induce her to flee the guild that was so much more than a fellowship to all who joined it. With every step she took from the building they had been so happy to erect, she left behind her dream, her innocence, her life.

Mavis was certain she'd bruised her ribs with that fall, and blood definitely trickled from her elbows as a result of the scrapes she'd suffered, yet a few moments later she could feel her body begin to mend itself as the pain was soothed away. Wounds closed and bruises disappeared as tissue regenerated and bursted blood vessels reformed. Her sobs grew louder, the implication of her old ability not lost on her now that she understood what it meant.

She was cursed.

She had killed Yuri's wife. The little baby boy born today would never know the sound of his mother's voice, nor her scent, nor her laughter as she held him close. Mavis had sinned dearly, and her friends would never know that she was the cause for Rita's death.

"Sorry..._sorry!"_ she sobbed brokenly as she ran, but no amount of apologizing could ease the pain in her heart. The hot tears spilling from swollen eyes and streaking her face mixed with the frigid rain that still held to winter's belated chill as the foreboding sky unleashed a downpour. They could get by without her. She'd appointed Precht as Fairy Tail's Second Master in her will years ago, in case anything were to happen to her, and she knew he was equipped to lead. His stable shoulders would have to bear the burden of picking up the shattered pieces she had left behind.

The dark forest beckoned to her, and into its cold embrace she went. The rain cleared as quickly as it had started, per the usual unpredictable nature of spring showers, and the sun peeked through dripping leaves to tease the girl running underneath the tree boughs. Tripping again—on a gnarly, exposed root this time—Mavis made no attempt to rise and instead looked up with trembling lips. A plump bunny sat on the path ahead of her, observing the imposter curiously.

Then she felt it coming...the uncontrollable wave of deadly Black magic that she knew would abolish all living things in her immediate vicinity. A Death Predation spell, it was called. She'd seen it first-hand already, flashbacks of Zeref running through her mind as a wave of darkness emitted from her wretched body. Fresh tears filling her eyes, Mavis begged, "Please no." The suffocating circle had killed everything in its path and was heading for the bunny.

"Stop this!" she cried, but knew it was useless. The rabbit twitched as it gave its last breath, then fell over to lie on the forest floor along with the dead foliage amid the growing carnage. Birds fell from the trees to join the lifeless rodent as Mavis lowered her head to the ground and wailed, her voice rising in volume until it matched the intensity of the dark wind swirling powerfully around her. And although the sun was shining, the extent of her world was a maze of death and darkness.

It came in layers.

Curling into a fetal position on the ground, she cried herself to sleep amidst the withered trees and dead bodies. In contrast, she dreamt of baby bunnies held by a man with honest eyes and a conflicting curse...of gentle smiles and sunlit meadows.

When Mavis awoke it was morning, and she was slow to remember the horrors of the previous day. Once the shock had passed, she was filled with grief and depression, which seemed to be her travelling companions now. Never could she atone for the lives she had taken and would continue to take, and a lifetime of pain stretched before her eyes like a midnight void.

Not a lifetime, she reminded herself with a shudder. An eternity.

Slowly shifting to a kneeling position, her expressionless face and dull eyes took in the sight of a withered and lifeless forest. Numbly, she wondered why she had fallen asleep instead of continuing to put distance between Magnolia and herself, which was the strategical thing to do in this situation, but decided to resume her journey for the day regardless. Standing, she didn't bother knocking the dried mud from her dress as she started walking.

The day passed in a haze of unbearable time. Mavis passed trees and crossed creeks, and predictably everything around her inevitably died. Crawfish and frogs in the creek rose to the surface, belly-up; birds and squirrels fell from the trees along with disintegrating leaves; even the lively deer couldn't gallop fast enough to escape their deaths. The sight of the decaying forest gradually became familiar to Mavis, whereas before she had viewed it with a curious objectivity. Of course she had felt sympathy for Zeref, but one could never relate to another unless they'd suffered the same pain. And she now understood the pain of the Curse of Ankhseram wholeheartedly.

"Can't you remove it now?" she called through the swirling cloud of death to the dull sky above, trying to ignore the dead branches. "I've learned my lesson, I promise. I'll never use anything even similar to that spell again." Her voice broke. "I can't bear...killing things." Silence was her answer, and once more tears dripped from her chin as she stoically resumed walking.

Little did she know that across the plane of space, Ankhseram had heard her plea. Heard and ignored it, for all mortals must be brought to justice as the fates allowed. Gods such as those governing life and death did not show mercy, regardless of whether they felt it, because they were the ones keeping the universe intact; the very embodiment of rules. Mavis wasn't the only human to have been cursed with his magic, but Ankhseram nearly hoped she would be the last. Watching weaker beings flounder under a ghastly curse wasn't a pastime he particularly enjoyed.

For one as loving as Mavis, who spent much of her childhood surrounded only by animals and a self-created Illusion, the guilt of allowing herself to think about the dead little bodies littering the forest floor—not to mention the stiff corpse of her friend whose funeral was probably underway in Magnolia—was unbearable. However, it was hard not to think of something when it was literally inescapable and surrounded her whichever way she turned. The mind had a barrier for such emergencies, however, and the pain was dulled as shock played its merciful hand.

Hours stretched into days, and it was on the fifth day of almost nonstop walking that Mavis saw smooth terrain through the dead trees ahead of her. Glad to finally be out of the forest, she walked out onto the bare field and continued ambling distractedly in the warm sunlight, grateful to be free from the damp darkness of the woods. She didn't look up from her bare feet and see the handful of workers sowing seeds in the corner of the field until it was too late.

Turning to run back into the obscurity of the woodland, Mavis tried hard not to panic when a voice called, "Wait, missy! What're you doin' on our lands? What did you steal, to be runnin' off like that?"

"Nothing!" she yelled back. "I _really_ must be going now."

"Oh, no you don't," a different male voice insisted this time. "Get her!"

In close quarters Mavis would have been the faster runner, but in an open field the odds were definitely against her. The man who'd confronted the supposed thief was also the first to reach her, and soon they were both on the ground. "Please, stop!" Mavis begged. "Get away from me as fast as you can! I don't want to hurt you but I will if you don't leave!"

Scoffing, he taunted, "That supposed to be a threat or something, little girl?"

"Please!" Mavis felt the wave coming and tears filled her eyes as onlookers gathered around her. "Run for your lives!" she screamed. "Soon it will be too late!" They didn't listen.

In the blink of an eye, everything around the cursed girl pulsed with negative light as death energy swirled through her.

_It's difficult not to feel like a villain when everything I touch dies._

There was no escape as the victim became the perpetrator.

The bodies fell, forming a haphazard circle where they happened to sprawl, and the man pinning her to the ground almost crushed her with his dead weight. Wriggling out from under the corpse, Mavis blindly ran across the field and into the cold haven of the woods, which somehow no longer felt like a refuge for the weary but a tomb for the doomed. Her heart beat out a deafening staccato of truth, one that she rejected with every bit of her being. She wouldn't allow this to go on.

She couldn't. Her sanity was deteriorating too rapidly to measure. While she still had some strength left to fight, while she still held horror for the lives she'd taken, she would attempt the impossible. There was a breaking point for everyone; a time when logic would be overridden by sheer desperation and pain. For Mavis Vermillion, that point had been reached and surpassed.

She wasn't aware of how she had reached the cliff, the memory of running to it vague and pointless. What mattered was that she was standing there at the moment, and an opportunity had arisen. She drowned the harmony of reason in her mind and looked straight ahead, determined not to focus on the jagged rocks some hundred feet below. Cursing herself for hesitating, she put one foot forth...then drew it back. This was her only defense against a lifetime. No, not a lifetime—an eternity. There was always a price to be paid for pride, for stupidity. _Fairy Strategist, indeed,_ she thought bitterly.

It was the memory of doe-like brown eyes closing in death that pushed Mavis off the ledge, not her own weak feet.

And it was at the bottom of the ravine, broken and bleeding but rapidly _healing_, that her loathing for herself was shoved aside by sheer necessity. She had to be stronger than this. Any member of Fairy Tail would think of saving others first, and she could do that if she kept her wits about her.

The next settlement of people she approached was a small village, and this time she had a plan for infiltrating it. If she stayed far away enough, no human would die. That much she could do. She wished she could ask a villager where she was, but her magic was too unpredictable and even a simple interaction could put that person's life in danger. Luckily, there were other ways to obtain information than human contact.

_**A/N:** Fanfiction dot net won't allow me to respond to anonymous reviewers (if you have an account I can PM you, though), so in response to 1995hzq's review and question: I've read other fics like this one as well, but they were quite short and unsatisfying in my opinion so I decided to write a longer and more detailed fic the way I thought the story should go. Yes, August will be conceived and both parents will be aware of his existence. The road to happiness will not be an easy one, however._

_I find August to be a very compelling character in general. The fact that neither of his parents ever knew about or acknowledged him was tragic, especially considering his desire to be loved. There's also a shocking lack of August in Zervis fanfic (not to mention a lack of Zervis fanfic in general) that just won't do._


	3. Chapter 3: Epiphany

Mavis ceased her running and collapsed against a tree, panting for breath as she waited for her cursed body to heal its aching feet. She had used her Illusion magic to create Gaurdian Eagle and scare the townspeople from their village, with the end result being she was able to freely roam the streets and discover the name of the county she was in. While she was there she had also obtained a map and eaten a meal for the first time in days. It was ironic, how many questions she'd wanted to asked Zeref about his immortality that she was now finding out through experience; immortals didn't need food or sleep, but they were still subject to hunger and drowsiness, for instance. _All these years I didn't actually need sustenance or rest to survive. How amusing,_ she thought.

The first tear ran down her face, followed by another and another as she silently bent her head. The map crumpled in her grip, and another uncontrollable wave of death magic emanated from her as she recalled the lives, human and otherwise, that she had taken today. The emotional pain of their deaths was almost too much for her to mentally endure, and all at once she wished she could stop caring for those that died and all living things in general, as paradoxical as she'd previously thought the desire could be for one who still cared.

_No! I can't let this be my legacy. I will fight it. I won't lose my regard for human life, no matter how many lives I take, for that would jeopardize the world far more than the alternative._ With that firm resolve in mind, Mavis decided to stay where she was in an effort to stop killing. If she didn't move from this spot...she knew it was a day's journey from any civilization, so perhaps no one would happen upon her and thus no one would die. Rita's demise was caused by her immediate proximity to Mavis, thus no one should succumb her curse if she gave them ample warning at a safe distance. As for the animals, they could learn, couldn't they? Except for those in the circle of death surrounding her, none had died since she'd sat down at the base of the tree.

A few hours later she was bored out of her mind. She had studied the map thoroughly, tried to sleep, rehearsed passages from various encyclopedias, even counted the falling leaves. Anything, she discovered, was better than thinking. For all she could ruminate over at present was her sins, her friends, and Zeref. Painful subjects to say the least. Her naturally imaginative mind was dulled with worry and sadness, closing the door of fantasy that had so often saved her from loneliness throughout her childhood.

A low growl sounded from somewhere behind her, and Mavis quickly turned to investigate. A jackal crouched close to the ground, yellow eyes regarding her threateningly from a few yards away. Happy to finally have company, she then quickly remembered why she was so grateful for it in the first place. "Please stay back, for your own sake," she warned. When the animal snarled, fur on its neck rising in a prelude to a pounce, she jumped up and stood as tall as she could while maintaining intense eye contact with the predator. She had read once never to run, as it would only give chase, and instead to appear as threatening as possible.

However, her plans were foiled when six more large jackals emerged from the brush around her, surrounding her completely and eradicating all hope of intimidation. All of a sudden she remembered her Illusion magic, and raised thin arms to create Heavenly Wolf. Her magic power had been depleted earlier that day, but a decade had passed for her to grow in strength and the spell worked.

Instead of running in fear as she had calculated, the animals remained unfazed, seeming to differentiate the mirage from reality with some inhuman sixth sense. Mavis dropped to her knees in exhaustion and begged, "Please, I've only ever wanted to be your friend." As with every other life she had taken since Rita's death, she received no reprieve. Her arms covered her head and she wept as the life forces of the predators around her were drained, their bodies hitting the forest floor simultaneously.

If her victims came to her, then it would be pointless to stay in one spot. Perhaps she could find a less densely populated area; a dessert, maybe? Or maybe if she kept moving, she wouldn't stay long enough in any one place to destroy it, but that plan hinged on the sporadic nature of her death magic improving. She'd cried more over the past few days than any other week in her life, even when Zera died. It was about time she put an end to the useless tears. Tenaciously struggling to her feet, Mavis wiped the moisture from her eyes forcefully and went on her way.

...

Zeref sighed as he contemplated the pale-yellow crescent moon from his vantage point on a jagged stone boulder atop a hill. The humid summer night was still and quiet save for the constant chirping of crickets, with few distractions to detract from the haunting beauty of the sky above. Nothing but his own mind, that was.

It had been four months since he had last talked to Mavis—he knew because he'd taken note of the time in case it served a purpose. Four months since he had told her about her curse. He wondered if it had been activated, and felt a quick pang of sympathy for the pain she was destined to endure. If she hadn't already then she inevitably would.

Some compassionate part of Zeref wanted to reassure her, show her that she could walk alongside him and survive. He could talk her through it, and in the midst of her grief she could have one friend who wouldn't succumb to her magic. He wanted to give her what he had never had. Or did he want her for more selfish reasons?

Either way he'd searched for her, spying on her guild only to learn she had fled the day of their last conversation, the same day Yuri's wife died. Which led him to believe that the curse had indeed been activated. Where would Mavis go? He had combed the forests of Magnolia for good measure, even after concluding that assuming she would linger near a city where her friends might find her was an insult to her intelligence. So he'd continued his search elsewhere, roaming numerous forests and mountain ranges. Anywhere Zeref would go whenever he needed solitude and a place to live out his frustration, he searched for Mavis.

And so far he was out of luck. He wasn't concerned for her physical wellbeing—he would know that one with the Curse of Contradiction couldn't die or deteriorate—but rather for her mental state. The curse disintegrated morality over time, corroding one's mental sanity and destroying the boundaries instituted by the mind to instill a code of honor. He didn't care for the idea of the world suffering under a tyrannical Mavis, nor that of his ray of light losing her innocent compassion. For the curse did steal compassion, over time. He needed to find her before that happened. She differed from him in that she would be more easily corrupted, being naturally more caring and thus less equipped to cope.

To pass the time and keep from obsessing over her, Zeref had attempted to focus his attentions on building his country across the waters in Alakitasia. His hobby had ironically been christened the Alvarez Empire, though he viewed it as little more than a means to pass the time. Due to his businesslike attitude, none of his subjects had died by his hand thus far. He'd broken one of his own rules of seclusion to build the country, but justified his trespass by reasoning he would keep his territory neutral. And he needed something to occupy his mind.

Over the years he had all but given up on the hope that Natsu may one day kill him even as he waited patiently for that very event, but the wish to die still troubled his weary soul. Being immortal had a way of driving one raving mad. Zeref had debated taking matters into his own hands once more by resuming his creation of the Etherious, powerful demons whom he hoped may one day put an end to his life, but decided he would bide his time a bit longer. He knew his creations had harmed a great deal of innocents in the past, and at present hurting people was the furthest thing from his desire. Creating the creatures had essentially been a pastime brought about by impatience during a more heartless period in his life, as deep down he knew they would never be able to break Ankhseram's curse. He needed to live in denial in order to hold hope for something, however.

And so recently he'd spend a few days at a time at Alvarez, before leaving control of it to his second in command and chief of staff to run in his absence. And the rest of his time, instead of his usual seclusion to clear his emotions, was spent searching for the only person he couldn't kill.

"Mavis," he whispered, wondering why he couldn't vanquish the image of her fear-filled eyes from his memory. Standing, he tightened the knot of his toga and vanished into the woods.

...

Little did Zeref know that the subject of his thoughts was gazing at the same moon, lying on her back in a self-made clearing in the woods. How strange that a sight that had once filled Mavis with such peace was now only capable of bringing sorrow. Not even the crickets survived the Death Predation spell her body would cast at random, but in time the spontaneity of the waves had improved. Now she could almost always sense whenever she was about to kill someone, which she'd discovered was whenever she felt a strong positive emotion for them. Namely, love. The less love and compassion she felt, the less potent her release of death energy. Such was the Curse of Contradiction.

She had spent the last few months aimlessly wandering the lands of Fiore, avoiding human contact at all costs and leaving countless animal corpses in her wake. She hadn't yet been able to find a desert, and her will to live was rapidly fading, but apparently not her compassion and value for life.

Mavis sighed quietly and dug her toes into the earth as she flexed her arms behind her head. Her clothes were sticking to her sweaty body, and it had been several weeks since she had last bathed. In a different lifetime she would never have allowed herself to get so filthy. Standing, she slowly began walking towards a small nearby pond. Mechanically, she stripped down and stepped into the cool water after casting aside her ragged dress and underdress.

The pond was shallow, so the water only reached her breasts, but it served its purpose well. While it felt soothing against her sticky skin, it was not nearly as pleasurable as she remembered it to be on that long ago night she swam with Zera. How ignorant she had been then, how naïve and carefree. She wished she could talk to her best friend one more time. Even on Tenrou Island she'd had a subconscious Illusion and the many species of animals to keep her company, but now she was utterly alone.

Feeling lonelier by the second, she summoned her magical powers and created Zera. The sight of her childhood friend brought back some good memories, but consciously knowing it was an illusion, she felt weird about making the girl say anything. How glad she was that Zera hadn't been a living person. Surely she would've killed her by now, had her friend been alive to die.

Sighing, Mavis let the incandescent mirage dissolve, knowing better than anyone that conscious illusions weren't convincing substitutes for people. Bending her knees in the water, she submerged her head and tried breathing in a lungful of pond water through her mouth. Suffocating was harder than she'd imagined, the impulse to come up for air being so strong that she eventually did. Coughing convulsively, she clutched her chest as her windpipe and lungs burned. Apparently she could still feel pain—that hadn't changed—but theoretically, no amount of damage she incurred would be able to kill her or unable to heal. Refusing to accept that as true, she decided she could keep trying. Perhaps if she stopped eating, she might eventually die? Optimistic thinking. But she was a little curious as to whether she would lose weight, and it wasn't as though she cared whether she ate.

It grew chilly in the water but Mavis didn't move, staring at the moon's reflection in the glassy surface as she shivered silently. Slowly but surely, the girl who had loved warmth was being replaced by a woman who didn't mind the cold.

It would certainly be nice to have someone to talk to. But there were none who could understand her, none she wouldn't harm. Except... "Zeref," she said out loud, startling herself with the sound of her own voice. _Of course! How could I have forgotten about him? He gave me this curse. No, I gave myself this curse. It wasn't his fault that I decided to use an incomplete Black magic spell after he made me promise I wouldn't. Still, if I had never met him then Rita and all the people and animals I've murdered wouldn't have died. I wouldn't be immortal. I hate him. But if I had never met him, would Fairy Tail exist? I love him for his kindness in teaching us to use magic...but I..._

Her head beginning to throb, Mavis discontinued that contradictory line of thought and waded to the edge of the pond to retrieve her clothing. No amount of baths in the world would cleanse her of the sins she had committed, her curse and desperation driving her to think darker thoughts than ever before.

Curling up between two tree roots, she fell into an uneasy sleep. And the next morning, she had come to a decision.

She would travel to Mount Hakobe and live in bitter cold seclusion, undisturbed and unconcerned by the rest of the world. How hard could it be? If there was a chance to stop the constant death, she would take it. Gritting her teeth in determination, she began her trek through the wooded land to the dangers of the north with nothing more than the clothes on her back, her bare feet, and a legendary curse.

A few hours later the sun was shining through the matured leaves, drying the dewy drops glistening on the greenery around her. Lost in thought again, Mavis didn't notice the beauty as her mind was working double time on the journey ahead of her. Stepping on what she assumed was a sharp object, she automatically jerked her smarting foot away to reveal a large brown and yellow–striped hornet. The pain brought her back to the present expediently and she hopped twice on one leg, holding her foot as she gasped. Slowly, her magic neutralized the venom and the annoying pain abated. Finding her footing once more, Mavis scowled down at the offending arthropod—which was still alive.

Looking up in surprise, a quick glance showed that the foliage around her was undisturbed as well. Zeref's words, as well as what she'd read about the curse, came back to her. _Of course. The less one cares about life, the less death energy one emanates. Am I losing my regard for life already? No! I still care about all that's sacred, and life is the most sacred thing of all! The insect sting and the preservation of nature in my radius must be a coincidence._ Despite the long months spent worrying about losing her compassion and sanity, her self-assurance was easier to believe due to the fact that she hadn't awoken to death that morning. Surely enough, to her mingled relief and consternation the leaves and brush around her promptly dried up.

Two months later, the girl who was as bright and pretty as her French namesake the song thrush, though dirty and feeling hopeless, had arrived at the highest peak of Mount Hakobe. So far she'd unintentionally killed two white wyverns, and was currently trying her best to keep her mind off the misery of freezing but never dying. She calculated that over sixteen thousand living creatures would die a year, excluding the many varieties of plants, if she were to remain in a friendlier climate. Whereas here, only two creatures had died in in almost one day, which equalled roughly five thousand a year. And that was if she was forced to confront two wyverns a day, which she doubted would be the case. If she remained on this mountain, Mavis reasoned, the lives dying by her hand would be reduced to a third of the tally.

But the real problem didn't lie in whether the numbers were suitable to her decision; it lay in whether she could hold on to her sanity in this place for...literally an eternity. It had scarcely been a day and she was slipping into a haze of nightmares, the constant cold, loneliness and blinding blizzard eating through her composure to bring her to the brink of insanity. Her knees shook with weakness, hunger pangs manifesting themselves as a continual rat gnawing at the pit of her empty stomach.

...

Mavis sat huddled in the snow, at what she assumed was the peak of the most formidable mountain range in Fiore. After days of climbing and painfully cold limbs which constantly attempted to thaw themselves out, she shivered in the snow while the raging blizzard beat at her hair and clothing like sand. Forced to face the reality of her decision, she correctly deduced that reducing the harm she caused other beings would inevitably result in losing her human compassion for them in the first place, causing her to become as evil as any of the dark guilds she had fought as Fairy Tail's master. Compassion was what all villains lacked, and she could not afford to lose it and risk taking more innocent lives than she would if she'd continued slaying them due to love.

Any scenario where she pictured herself attempting to physically refrain from killing as much as possible, she also foresaw the outcome of going mad eventually. The only choice she was allowed was whether physical and mental or emotional torture would be the cause. If Mavis's calculations were correct, then immortality would find a way to corrode her morality one way or another. There was no escaping it; the only question was which path to insanity or indifference, and ultimately evil, was shorter. Isolation was synonymous with madness.

The irony of the fact that trying not to kill in an effort to refrain from being evil would make her become evil faster was enough to make her scream. Speaking of screaming...she jumped to her feet, wavering a little, and tried to run down the hill. Falling over predictably, she tumbled to the bottom with her eyes shut tightly against the swirling white blizzard. Blood was frozen in droplets against her face, the wounds caused by the harsh snow having long since healed. Needily looking forward to the warmth of the sunlight once more, Mavis's stiff legs propelled her faster over the frozen tundra.

_**A/N:** To 1995hzq: You're welcome! Thanks for your question, I'm always happy to answer them. I've often wondered where Zeref would've taken Alvarez if Mavis hadn't been trapped in a lacrima for a century. Your question digs pretty deep into the future of this fic, but I'll try to answer it without giving too much away. In my opinion Mavis's "death" was the last straw for Zeref. It embittered him and solidified his cynicism (a throwback to the years right after he obtained his curse), and he began making serious plans for when the current age was over: building up his empire, officially deciding he didn't want love if it equalled death and it was a mistake to care for people, etc. Before Mavis's supposed death Alvarez was much smaller and predominantly a game to him._

_So one might say that had Mavis lived, they would've truly searched for a cure to the curse together. Zeref has much to resolve about the nature of mankind and whether they are deserving of the annihilation he was so eager to serve up in order to erase his past crimes in the canon. Like I said, cynicism played a large role in his warmongering. As for whether we'll see characters from the Spriggan 12, yes and no. Remember this is 95 years before the Alvarez arc and many of them have yet to be born or created._


	4. Chapter 4: The Ultimate Contradiction

Deep in the heart of a forest some distance north of Magnolia sat Mavis, her hair slightly tangled and her face and clothing showing obvious signs of wear. Her once-bright green eyes were dull, with heavy dark circles underlining them. Smudges of dirt could be seen here and there on her face and bare arms, and despite the wintry December air the only clothing on her body was a dirty slip meant to be worn underneath a dress that had long since been discarded. Her knees were bent so that her slim arms could loop around them and her head was lowered as she sat in a hollowed cove provided by a large dead tree. She had learned to keep moving as a means to moderate the curse's effects, never staying in one place for more than a day. Even so, the brown ground was covered with atrophying leaves and the decaying branches above would never grow a green thing again.

For the first time in days, Mavis heard the quiet crunch of footsteps, and wearily debated whether to look up and view the intruder foolish enough to disturb her privacy or continue to block out the reality of the wretched world around her. The latter would've won out if she hadn't identified the footsteps as those belonging to a bi-ped—not her usual visitor. The dull flare of fear resulting from the realization was useless in its timing and impotency.

"There you are, Mavis. I've searched for you," came a smooth, familiar male voice, providing the impetus for her to lift her head. Had she been paying closer attention, she wouldn't have missed the undercurrent of meaning in those simple words.

"Oh. It's _you,"_ she said halfheartedly, greeting the newcomer without rising. Though her clothing barely reached her thighs and her knees were bent so the undersides of said thighs were clearly visible, she didn't move.

Zeref came to stand in front of her, his initial smile at seeing her again fading as he noted the obvious changes in her appearance and character. It seemed he had been right to be worried. "You're not looking too good," he noted, in much the same tone as before.

"I haven't had anything to eat or drink in over half a year," Mavis explained, voice husky from disuse. "But here I am."

She sounded none too enthusiastic about that fact, and Zeref understood her disappointment. He knew that no method on earth, including starvation, could possibly kill her.

She lowered her head again, resting her chin on her knees. "I want it all to be over," she said, sincere emotion tinting her voice.

"That's one of the things about the Curse of Ankhseram," he told her, his face now wearing the same cold and lackluster expression she had grown used to seeing recently whenever she glanced at her own rippling reflection in a body of water. "You could go so far as to cut off your own head and you still wouldn't die."

Despite his words, mad hope dawned in her heart. "Please, Zeref," her head lifted and she regarded him with desperate eyes. "I need your help." Her voice broke. "I'm begging you to kill me!"

He didn't blame her for asking; after all it was what he would've done in her situation, had he known a mage as powerful as himself. "Sorry, but what you're asking is impossible. There's nothing in the world that can kill either one of us." _Even if I wanted to end your life,_ he added mentally.

Seeing a glimmer of hope fade from her eyes, he went on. "At first I felt exactly as you do now. Honestly, I still think about what a relief death would bring all the time. But regardless, you need to try and change your perspective on the matter."

Her eyes widened.

"We both have an eternity here to do other things," he explained.

Mavis's mouth fell open, and she watched him with new interest. _What other things? How could I enjoy anything with all the death I've caused? Is he right—should I let go of my fruitless death wish?_

Raising his gaze from her, Zeref gave an example. "As for me, I've created a new kind of beast I call Etherious. My hope is that one day their inhuman strength can end my life of suffering." Thinking about their failures, he added darkly, "But of course, it hasn't worked yet."

Seeing her expression, he ventured a little more brightly, "And I've spent some time building a country."

"A country?" She asked, a tinge of intrigue in her tone.

Turning to the side to gaze past the skeletal trees, Zeref elaborated, "It's a small place on the western continent now, but we're growing rapidly, because people will do things for me. It's a fun little challenge."

Mavis gasped a little, wondering how he could be so cavalier about his life. It seemed as though he wasn't afflicted with the same problems she was, that he didn't suffer quite so much. _Could that be true? Could this be me in a few centuries?_

Turning to face her, Zeref went on, "In fact, I'm known as Emperor Spriggan over there. I view my subjects as mere pawns. Don't judge...it's safer that way. With that attitude, the Curse of Ankhseram won't effect them at all. It's like an intricate simulation game."

Shifting to put her knees on the ground, Mavis leaned forward on her hands and asked curiously, "What are you trying to do?"

Looking at her, Zeref answered, "I guess I'm getting ready for something... A war. But don't get the wrong idea. I detest conflict. In fact, I think it's absolutely revolting. I wouldn't call it fun."

Mavis blinked in surprise. "Huh? But...you just said it was a fun challenge!"

"Did I?" Zeref blinked, looking genuinely bewildered. "I don't remember."

_Are all his thoughts contradictions too?_ Mavis wondered.

"My entire life is wrapped up in this game now. I only live so I can die." His left hand clutched his face as he frowned in concentration. "Or—to get my little brother back. Maybe just so I can kill him. Or is it so my little brother can kill me?"

His words becoming more confusing by the second, Mavis watched as his voice distorted. "All this...it makes my head feel like it's on fire!"

She had been wrong about the extent of his suffering. For the first time in almost a year, she was able to empathize with another human being. She understood exactly how he felt, his contradicting motives and pain, and her heart softened in the blink of an eye as she felt a rush of sorrow for his sake. "Zeref," she said aloud, not to call his name but out of amazement that she didn't see it before.

Both of his hands covered his head as his legs buckled under the weight of centuries of misery. "The world...hates me. It continually rejects me!" Zeref's usually calm and collected voice broke as he spiralled into the depths of a panic attack, with no one to save him from himself. "Everything hurts," he sobbed.

Mavis was on her feet and in front of him in time to catch his upper body as he fell to his knees. Her thin arms went around his shoulders and her chin dug into the folds of his knotted white toga, tears spilling from beneath her gaunt eyelids as she contained him with a ferocity she hoped he'd understand.

"I _won't_ reject you, Zeref," she vowed in a tear-filled voice. "I accept who you are."

Lifting his head, he inhaled unsteadily as he heard her words, his eyes round with surprise.

"I may be the only one," Mavis continued, "but I understand how you feel." The tears were flowing freely now, tracking her cheeks and dripping from her chin. The surrounding forest was solemnly still and quiet, a few lone leaves noiselessly floating from the dead canopy above.

Drawing back from the embrace to hold his shoulders at arm's length, Mavis looked into the haunted black eyes and said earnestly, "You can't give up. I know we'll find a way to lift the curse someday."

Searching her green eyes for what was abundantly being displayed and finding it, Zeref heard her finish, "Together. Just you and I."

He gasped as tears brimmed his eyes and made their way down his face. Never before had he known anyone who understood him, let alone cared for him, despite all he'd done and who he was, who wanted to be with him. Together, she'd said. It was too good to be true.

"Do you mean that?" he asked hopefully, bringing his hand up to cover her frail shoulder.

_"Yes,"_ she assured him emphatically, discarding all semblance of caution as she recklessly held her soft heart out for him to take, hoping against hope that he would have the courage to do so. That he would trust her, as she was trusting him.

Leaning forward, Zeref pulled her into a hug the way he'd wanted to do a year ago, wrapping her small body in his arms. Her hair was against the side of his face, the light scent of her brushing against his senses, but he barely noticed it as he drank in the embrace. The feeling of a warm, tangible body in his arms was strange, but more so were the emotions flooding his heart. He finally felt hope. It wasn't a distant, doubtful kind of hope; it was immediate salvation. Even if they never found a way to lift the curse, they would always have one companion the curse could not affect: each other. The only person he could allow himself to care about was here in his arms.

His throat tight with gratitude and another indescribable feeling, he muttered, "Oh, Mavis." He was breaking down again, but he paid it no heed, brushing aside his long-kept habit of checking his emotions. "This is the first time anyone's ever been truly kind to me."

Mavis could feel Zeref shaking as he held her, and she tightened her grip and told him tenderly, "Come on." Pulling back to look him in the eyes, she said, "You've probably forgotten what it's like...that's all."

Her face was bright despite the moisture in her eyes, her small mouth lifted in a warm and gentle smile. For him. Cradling her soft face in his hands, he said through his tears, "I know that I've never felt this way about anybody before."

A blush resided in her upper cheeks as Mavis looked up at him with large aquamarine eyes. His hands were warm and strikingly human against her skin, and her lips parted slightly in a subconscious invitation. The moment was monumental, a turning point in both their lives, and she couldn't quell the harsh pounding of her heart as she waited with baited breath. Would he...?

Zeref closed the small distance between their faces and took her mouth with his, their eyes closing in sync as he molded it almost tentatively. He felt a tear against his hand and deepened the soft kiss, using his tongue to taste her soft, salty lips as he slid his hands into her hair to tilt her head.

...

Ankhseram was once again an observer to the ones who had broken the fundamental laws of life and death. He knew what would happen if he didn't interfere; the two immortals were about to commit the ultimate contradiction, and the result would prove to be yet another contradiction. Their love for each other would drain their life forces, and ultimately they would have their wishes granted as they died in the arms of the one they loved. Such was the curse's power.

But Ankhseram had judged that Zeref had not suffered enough for his crimes. He must be made to pay for daring to assume he had the power to decide who lives and dies. The girl's curse was a direct result of what the Black Wizard taught her, and the pain he had brought to others because of his nearsightedness could scarcely be tallied. The world was not rejecting Zeref, but the reverse was true. Every problem the wizard confronted he countered with a taboo.

Ultimately, perhaps Zeref would learn his lesson, or perhaps not. As the one who designed the curse, Ankhseram could manipulate it whichever way he saw fit within the boundaries of his skills.

Pertaining for his divine judgement to come to pass, the God of Life and Death cast one final curse upon each of the couple and turned away to see to other business.

...

Oblivious to the wishes of the god, Mavis and Zeref had finally discovered solace in each other.

Cognizant thoughts fled both their heads as Zeref's instincts rose to the occasion. Strange, how an act he'd never done before could happen so naturally, with no awkwardness whatsoever. The world seemed to dwindle to the two immortals in a dead forest, finding comfort and direction in each other's arms. There was no need to deny himself anything; she was here and willing to give, warmth and kindness personified in a fairylike creature. After over three centuries of being taught to subdue and suppress his positive emotions, he finally didn't need to hold back. His frozen heart began to thaw despite the temperature around them, for the discarnate climate was warmer than any he'd experienced. He felt an odd sense of nostalgia, a hint of the warmth he'd shared with his family as a child long ago, catalyzed by a tide far stronger than familial bonds.

This was what Zeref needed. Their tears mingled and then dried as they absorbed the feeling of each other, dusk settling in the chilly forest as they kissed hungrily. The embrace was fast getting out of control, but neither party cared, intent on getting as close as they could to each other. It was as though they sensed their intimacy was a precarious thing, and sought to grasp it before it was out of reach. His hands clenched in her hair as unspoken words passed between the two of them, promises of hope and love.

Mavis sensed how tense he was and sought to soothe him by stroking his back. Her skin was flushed, the strange experience of his firm mouth on hers stirring emotions and sensations that were entirely unfamiliar to her. Restless and excited, she wriggled in his hold, trying to refrain from rubbing herself against him and failing miserably.

Zeref's adolescent body reacted predictably, hardening with pent-up lust, and he might have smiled at the levity of his own hormones if the moment weren't so serious.

He pushed her over onto the ground without severing the necessary contact of their mouths, his hands breaking her fall before smoothing pale strands of hair from her face. Mavis didn't so much as gasp into his mouth as her knees drew up, her lower body instinctively forming a cradle for him as he released kiss-bruised lips to gasp for breath, resting his forehead against hers.

Fitting a hand over her small, but firm, breast and tracing the slender curvature of her waist and hip, he didn't stop at the hem of her undershirt and stroked the silky-smooth skin of her thighs. Reaching the fine crease at the top of one, he sensitively parted her soft curls to find the silky wet heat hidden beneath them. Gently caressing the bundle of nerves, he delved against the opening of her body and felt her elixir coat his fingers as her hands clutched his arms through their shirtsleeves. Her face was beet red. She lasted for approximately eight seconds before her hands were at his toga, impatiently tugging the knot apart to find the opening of the black robes beneath it, although he sensed her flaming blush.

Discovering there was no opening to the tunic, Mavis worked it up persistently, giving a huff of embarrassed disappointment when she discovered his trousers. Aroused beyond bearing, Zeref didn't move one tout muscle as she unfastened and tugged them down until there was no barrier between their bare skin and he was free to slide home. His urgent lust was tempered by disbelief, then exacerbated by the fear that he might somehow lose her.

Cradling her face between his palms, he brushed a gentle kiss over her satiny lips before positioning his arousal at her small opening and pressing forward, holding her gaze as he did so. Despite the abundant moisture, the fit was much tighter than he'd expected, her small body struggling to accept him as she winced in pain.

Speaking of expectations...the sheer delight of sinking in to the hilt defied his calculations, the silken hot channel reluctantly stretching to make way for him and causing his eyes to close. Zeref's apprehension temporarily abated as his senses rejoiced in carnal pleasure, but Mavis had tensed and gasped beneath him as he tore through the barrier designed to protect her chastity. He froze, eyes flying open as he struggled to maintain control regardless of the primal urge to roughly pound into her defenseless body.

Despite the low visibility brought about by dusk, he could make out the intricate outline of her face; accepting and guileless eyes were staring past his soul, and he watched as they watered reflexively. Two tears slid down her temples, but she smiled and cupped his cheek with her soft hand, using her legs to clasp his thighs while arching upwards in invitation.

The feeling of Zeref stretching her open was bordering on agony, but over the past year Mavis had acquired quite a tolerance for pain and thus it was insignificant compared to the wonder she felt at committing an act so intimate. She suppressed a gasp of distress as she felt the crown of his shaft prod against her womb, pressing her pelvis tightly to his and loving the expression he made. At her encouragement he slowly began to move inside her, and she felt the ever-present sorrow and loneliness of the long months she'd spent in exile leave her consciousness as not only her physical body, but her very soul was branded.

Zeref was wonderfully warm even through the layers that separated their chests, his skin almost hot to the touch, and she linked her arms around his neck and strained upwards to press her lips and nose against the smooth surface there. He obliged her, letting her bear more of his weight and bracing his elbows on the ground to keep from crushing her delicate form.

Mavis began to crave the painful yet pleasurable thrusts, her hands working restlessly over his back before slipping inside the collar of his clothing to explore the musculature of his chest. Zeref grunted quietly but made no effort to stop her inquisitive inspection of this new territory, pinning her hips to the ground in a strong nudge that rubbed her hidden peak with his pubic bone. She bit back a surprised whimper as a thrill of pleasure made her writhe breathlessly.

Correctly interpreting that strangled sound, Zeref followed it with his hips and watched her lost expression as she bit her lip. He did this to her, and the realization heightened his awareness of every subtle reaction of her body. He let his feelings flow between them, pouring his love for her into his every motion. Thought became emotion, emotion became movement, and movement became pleasure. Every gliding thrust was a word, a promise, an endearment. They took the ancient language and made it their own.

Too soon, he sensed his climax rushing towards him and scooped Mavis up to straddle his lap as he leaned back against the broad tree trunk. She gasped in pained pleasure as the movement impelled his hard length deeper inside her, bringing her small hands to rest on his shoulders. Her curse was already healing her breached lower body and the immense pain was gradually abating, tingles of heated delight centering low in her middle as she sought the elusive culmination.

He tugged her face to his and licked into her open mouth, absorbing the small noises she made as he maneuvered her pelvis to ride him, the upward thrusts of his hips becoming a little jerkier. To his disgruntlement, she broke the searing contact between their lips, but he knew why when she shakily whispered near his ear, "I love you, Zeref."

His emotions and hormones spiralling out of control, he gripped Mavis's back through her hair to kiss her again. His entire body tensed in incipient pleasure as he bucked into her gently, feeling her tight depths convulse around him in answering ecstasy as he emptied himself deep inside her. All thought fled him as the combined waves of pleasure and release of pressure made him lightheaded. Tears sprung into his eyes again as he processed what she'd said, and his heart welled with emotion.

When Zeref became aware of his surroundings again, Mavis was relaxing in his hold, her hand falling from his face as her head slowly lolled back against his arms, her small mouth open. Then he felt her magic power shrinking, and finally perceived the cause. His own death magic was overflowing into the already drained atmosphere around him, riding off his love to steal the only possession he valued.

Feeling a suffocating sense of foreboding wrench him from his physically euphoric high, Zeref instantly attempted to lock away his rampant emotions lest the impossible happen. But it was futile, his reaction being too little, too late. _How can this be happening?_ he thought in disbelief, holding her closer as if that would keep her mind from departing her body. _You and I are immortal. Please don't leave me. I need you._

The silent plea went unheard.

Before Zeref's shocked brain could fully comprehend what had happened, he sensed the last of Mavis's life force leave her while she was still in his arms. His lips trembled uncontrollably and he didn't realize he was crying again until his collar grew wet, her body catching the tears that fell too quickly to be collected by the fabric. Holding her limp form tightly against his chest, he broke down into quiet sobs as his hands fisted in her thick hair.

Long into the early hours of the morning, a full moon shone on the Black Wizard as he wept over the body of the fairylike girl he'd been foolish enough to love. Of course logic would defy itself to deny him happiness_,_ he thought fatalistically. _What have I ever done to deserve comfort? How could I make this mistake?_

They had committed the ultimate contradiction...and now they must pay the ultimate price. In his brokenhearted state Zeref wondered why he was still alive and Mavis was dead, concluding that centuries of having his curse must have overruled Mavis's single year. Being a more powerful wizard than she, his curse took her immortal life. The act of love between the two wizards was the highest contradiction of its power.

Life. Such a mysterious aspect of existence, the link between the mind and the brain. What precisely caused the destruction of it? How did the damage of the physical body relate to the departing of the spirit? All questions he had pondered before, but never more so than the moment he realized what he had lost.

Dawn eventually broke over the forest, but no birds in that portion of the woodland were alive to serenade the mourning man. Slowly, Zeref raised his head and removed the body from his lap. Mavis was gone, and there was no longer any reason to care about anything. Mechanically he laid her on the ground, restored their clothing and stood, bearing her slight weight in his arms. Long yellow hair dangled to the forest floor along with one arm, eyes peacefully closed as though in repose. She _was_ in repose, Zeref reflected bitterly. And she would never wake from it.

As he started walking he contemplated that he should be happy for Mavis, as he had fulfilled her wish and killed her. Instead, however, he was only aware of a selfish loneliness so vast it threatened to consume his sanity._ I allowed myself to hope, if only for a few minutes, that I had found someone capable of extinguishing the sorrow of my curse. But of course, that same curse was what took her from me. In essence, Mavis was a fairy, and I am a spriggan._

"If this is love," he said quietly, every word filled with bitter regret, "then I don't want it." The ice that had been dispelled by sympathy began creeping over his heart again, beginning to transform him back into the man Ishgar had once feared as the legendary Black Wizard.

_**A/N:** I hope it isn't too far of a stretch to posit that the reason Zeref wasn't affected was not due to Mavis's lack of love for him, but Ankhseram's direct interference. As for "the ultimate contradiction", I think it would've been a contradiction either way: had they lived it would've contradicted the supposed affects of the curse, and if they'd died then it would've contradicted their immortality. But in this case, the contradiction lies in August's conception when the curse was fated to take life, not create it. These two together simply *is* a contradiction._

_Some people theorize that August was a projection of Mavis's that Zeref imbued with life via his Living magic, but I think he was their biological son, which is the widely-held belief. Understandably, Mavis omitted her intimacy with Zeref from the story she told Fairy Tail (seriously, how awkward would it have been if she'd confessed the whole story?). Further evidence of their parenthood is the impact Larcade's Pleasure magic—which apparently affects everyone who's had sex—had on Mavis and Zeref. If you have any questions, feel free to ask._


	5. Chapter 5: It's Not Over

As the sun cast the first glimmer of vibrant color through the gray clouds hanging over the eastern skyline, Zeref emerged from the forest carrying the lax body of Mavis Vermillion, Master of Fairy Tail. He tried to recall the names of her friends as he walked towards Magnolia to bring them her body. It was the last gesture he could make, and he reasoned he owed her that much. _I'm so exhausted. These feelings have left me drained. All I want is numb seclusion. I know; I'll go back to Alakitasia and play my game some more. There's no one I care about on that entire continent._

Bending his head absentmindedly as he neared the outskirts of the city, Zeref caught sight of the dried blood and semen crusting Mavis's inner thighs for the first time, the ragged slip she wore unable to cover more than half of them. Hesitating, he reversed course on impulse after wearily suppressing another wave of self-loathing and sadness. Practically speaking, it didn't matter how soiled a dead body was, but a part of him was nauseated by the idea of disrespecting the former vessel of a loved one in such a callous manner. He still had a little humanity left in the void that was his heart, and he forced himself not to overthink the impetus that caused him to walk in the opposite direction of Magnolia.

A few minutes later he stopped at a narrow creek, one of many winding through the forest, and dumped his corpse on the ground unceremoniously. She landed on her side, limbs sprawled and hair spread on the ground. He was preparing to rinse her thighs when he thought he sensed something that caused his eyes to widen in disbelief. A residual, very faint trace of magic power. Glancing around to ascertain that he was alone in the woods, Zeref turned to the only possible source the faint energy could be emanating from. If it was from her...then she was still alive.

His heart thumped with uncomfortable force as he pressed her back to the ground and laid his ear over her chest, listening for a pulse. His hopes fell slightly when he couldn't sense one. "But still," he said aloud, straightening. "The fact that I'm sensing magical power from you means you aren't dead, Mavis. And to think of how close I came to palming you off on your friends."

If she wasn't dead, then she might be immortal after all. Taking hold of her shoulders, he shook her persistently, despite feeling foolish attempting to wake a person without a pulse. "Mavis," he said urgently. She didn't stir, her face unperturbed. Nothing he tried could wake her, and he soon realized why: his curse was unable to kill her, but it had drained her life force, leaving her in an unresponsive state somewhere in the realm between life and death. It made sense, considering the nature of their shared curse. He brushed aside the worry that he might kill her while she was in her current condition, knowing it was illogical. If he hadn't truly taken her life so far, nothing could.

Maneuvering her body a bit more mindfully this time, he gently rinsed the tender area between her legs, then her thighs in the cold running water. Satisfied that at least she wasn't visibly soiled, Zeref blotted her skin dry with his toga and lifted her body once more. A more thorough bath would have to wait.

When he was washing Mavis, he'd realized what he hadn't before; the body in his arms was warm and supple. A corpse would have rigor-mortis set in by now. She isn't dead, he repeated to himself, the meaning of that thought reaching through his icy shell of grief at last. Closing his eyes in exhausted relief, he stood slowly. Going in search of a dark place, he found a large hollow tree that was a shell of its former glory. Laying down inside it, Zeref pulled her pliant form close and promptly fell asleep.

Late the next morning, he gradually awoke from his dreamless day-long slumber and hugged the warm, foreign female body in his arms closer. Then his eyes flew open as he remembered no one should be touching him, and he took in the sight of Mavis's peaceful face. He could still sense the faint magical energy inside her, and he tensed as memories flooded him. Her kind voice, saying they'd find a way to lift the curse together. How she had accepted him, and wouldn't reject him. He remembered the unique way her lips had felt against his, soft and sweet and yielding. Then he recalled what happened afterwards and his cock hardened inconveniently. The thought of why Mavis was comatose was enough to jerk him from his lustful haze, however, and he disengaged her body from his and sat up. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Zeref sighed and silently began thinking.

He would take Mavis with him to his empire in Alakitasia, and find a safe way to revive her there. He possessed the means to have her cared for by numerous magic doctors, and he could further study the history and effects of Ankhseram's curse. His desire for breaking it had never been greater, now that it was fueled by so much more than self-interest or an intrinsic sense of duty to mankind and the faceless lives he had stolen. Never to his knowledge had two people possessing the curse loved each other, though it might turn up in the records—if he could find records of the affliction. To the best of his knowledge, Mavis and himself were the only two who were fortunate enough to have received the Curse of Contradiction, though he could very well be wrong.

He'd also never seen a wizard in such a peculiar coma before; Mavis wasn't dead, but nor was she precisely alive, and he was uncertain as to whether the two were one and the same. As long as he hadn't killed her, the rest could and would be resolved. He would solve the mystery of the magical power he sensed, and he had an eternity to do so.

Gently, Zeref brushed a lock of pale golden hair from Mavis's face, his mind made up. There were few limits on what he was willing to do; he would even use the R-System if necessary to revive her, although of course that wouldn't work on an undead person. As he watched her peaceful features, he had the uncanny feeling that she was with him and brushed it off. He needed his wits about him and he couldn't afford to have his senses tricking him into believing Mavis was awake somehow.

With one arm under her back and the other beneath her knees, he stood resolutely, feeling less dazed and more hopeful than the first time he'd picked up her body the night before. Knowing he would eventually see her smile again made a world of difference. It may be selfish of him to be glad Mavis wasn't dead, not to mention plan on reviving her, but he was. He'd been alone long enough, and he would hold her to her promise.

Consulting the map in his head of the western continent Alakitasia and the nation of Fiore, Zeref sorted through alternating routes of travelling to his country. He'd never been in any particular hurry to reach it, but this unexpected turn of events validated a shortcut. He would go through the valley of Mount Hakobe and skirt around the town of Shirotsume before continuing the journey on foot, then he would cross the ocean aboard a lone ship. Once he reached the shores of Alakitasia, transportation would become exponentially easier. All things considered the journey wouldn't take more than a year, according to Zeref's plan. Of course, he wasn't planning on surprises.

...

Zeref stood in front of a lake somewhere between Magnolia and Mount Hakobe, anticipating his first bath in days. He abhorred uncleanliness and made a habit of bathing whenever he had access to a body of water, but the past few days had been an exception because of Mavis. He wouldn't feel quite right taking a bath if he didn't give her one as well, and the only problem with that was that the concept of undressing and washing her unsettled him.

She was unconscious, and he had a feeling that were she awake she'd tell him to go right ahead in her kind but embarrassedly practical manner, yet he still had reservations about the matter. Sighing, he set her down on the bank and checked the back of her dress for an opening. Finding none, he easily ripped it open down the front and tugged the dirty fabric away from her arms, averting his face from her body politely. There was nothing polite about the next part, however. Nonetheless, he reasoned he could be businesslike about it.

Stripping down, he folded his robes neatly and placed them on the banks of the lake. Turning to Mavis, he lifted her carefully, ignoring the expanse of smooth warm skin against his, and waded into the bracing coolness of the lake. Once he was chest-deep, Mavis's weight was inconsequential due to the buoyancy of the water, and he was able to loosen his grasp on her a little. Her hair, darkened by the water, trailed and floated aesthetically around them. Curious as to how it felt underwater, Zeref sifted his fingers through a lock and was pleasantly surprised by its silky texture.

Clearing his throat, he supported her thighs with one arm and used the other to dip her scalp back and into the frigid water. Remembering her love of warmth, he cringed a little as he submersed her head and body, ensuring her face stayed above the surface level. As he glanced down her body, a pastel flash of color caught his eye, drawing his gaze to a mark on her lower body despite its location over her right hip bone. It appeared to be a bird of some kind, etched onto her pale skin in a yellow only a few shades darker, the pattern almost difficult to make out. Her guild mark, he deduced, and traced the color with his fingertips. It was hard not to let his eyes roam over her lithe body and settle at the soft thatch of soft blond curls between her thighs, but his self-control was exceptional and he forced his gaze from temptation.

Re-dipping and massaging her scalp, he reflected that the swim would be much more enjoyable if Mavis were awake. Steering his errant imagination away from that variety of thought, which he'd hoped would be prevented by the temperature of the lake, he rinsed her hair and moved on to her petite body. Running his hands over her until he was satisfied she was clean—all the while ignoring his own insatiable anatomy—he then maintained a hold of his charge as he dunked his head and shoulders under the cold water in a faster version of his usual routine.

In a few minutes Zeref was wading to the shore again with Mavis's naked body in his arms. Her face was still a serene mask, unchanging despite whatever could be happening around her. He hoped her dreams were peaceful. Eyeing the garment he'd torn off of her distastefully, he began thoroughly wringing out her long hair in the weak sunlight. Which, he quickly discovered, was no easy task whatsoever. How did one live with hair this length? He did think it was pretty, though.

Persisting patiently, he completed the task and reached for his folded toga. Shaking out the rectangular piece of cotton and laying it on the ground, he lifted Mavis and arranged her on it. After a few minutes he'd fashioned a makeshift dress for her, having ripped the edges into two strips and tying them over her torso in the front, leaving her arms and shoulders bare but her chest and the rest of her somewhat covered. It wasn't perfect, but it was better than nothing.

Feeling quite refreshed after the rinse, with his skin tingling pleasantly from the invigorating temperature of the water, Zeref resumed his journey throughout the afternoon. As the sun began sinking below the horizon, he crossed a field and continued into the woods to find a resting place for the night. Deciding the base of a tree was as good as any, he sat down tiredly and ignored the new foliage withering around him, happy that at least there were no animals to get killed as most of them had migrated south for the winter. He corrected himself as a buzzard fell from the sky to join the dead leaves covering the forest floor.

Turning his attention from the dismal sight to the person lying across his lap, he watched the sun's dying rays streak through the dead trees and wondered what Mavis would have said about its beauty. He blinked tiredly, barely able to stay awake as he recalled that he hadn't slept since the morning he first woke with Mavis. Lying down and laying her body a respectful foot away from him, he dozed off.

In the middle of the night, he stirred fitfully, lost to dreams of the past, both distant and recent. In his dream Natsu was two again, playing on their mother's lap...then suddenly he was dead, a lifeless little body Zeref cried over as a child. He was helpless to do anything as he saw himself joining the Mildian Magic Academy. All the corpses of those he'd killed, including his elderly teacher, rose up to shamble towards him with horrified looks on their faces. Then he saw Mavis among them, reaching out to him pleadingly.

Waking with a start, he reached for her in the darkness and encountered empty space. Rolling over quickly, his heightened senses registered noises of something in the dark, which he identified as retreating footsteps. Though it was hard to see in the pale starlight, the outline of some sort of beast was visible, its retreating form barely silhouetted. Reacting without conscious thought, unaware that his irises had turned crimson, Zeref used offensive magic for the first time in decades to emit a concentrated wave of pure death.

The animal fell dead in its tracks, its body withering in death along with the trees in the radius of the Black Wizard's attack. Walking over to what remained on the ground, he picked up Mavis's body and tried to return to his former resting place, though he gave up on finding it due to the lack of trees marking the spot. Lying down beneath the clear night sky, he curled his body protectively around her this time, pulling her back into his chest and smelling her hair. Somehow she'd still kept her scent, and along with her faint magical aura it soothed his pounding heart until he was able to sleep again. And this time, his dreams were untroubled as he rested in her sunshiny presence.

It wasn't until late the next day that he chided himself for his impetuous use of magic. Not only did it break a personal rule, but he'd lost his calm and hadn't taken into mind the possibility that it might harm Mavis. In theory she was immortal, but Zeref was superstitious by experience and didn't wish to press his luck. Acting before he thought was a mistake he couldn't afford to make; not again.

He was in a foul mood, ambivalence settling on disgruntlement after the relatively extreme high, low, and high he'd experienced inside of one week. While he walked, the wheels of his brain turned in an age-old rhythm as he ruminated over various ideas and fears. He didn't possess enough information to properly deal with the situation at hand. His arms clenched a little around Mavis's body absentmindedly as he looked down at her. He envied her right now, dead to the world and its problems. In a blissful state of eternal rest... _Not eternal,_ he reminded his depressive mind. He would find a way to revive her. The winter sun slitted through the boughs of unscathed trees, mocking him with beauty he couldn't appreciate.

If Mavis were here, if he could talk to her, look into her eyes again...perhaps know that she'd forgiven him for what he'd done to her, then the weight on his chest would be somewhat lifted. What they'd thought was in their grasp had turned out to be false hope, as evidenced by the limp body in his arms. Was her mind still cognizant, trapped inside the prison that was her physical body? Would she have accepted him if she knew it would mean this fate?

Two annoying teardrops left a path down his face as his heart seemed to grow heavier in his chest. Yet another burden for him to bear, alone. He thought he sensed her presence again and faltered a little, before acknowledging it was his imagination once more. He really was losing his mind, unless...it wasn't in his head. He considered the possibility, concluding that because she was unconscious, and her life force was completely drained, the vague presence he thought he sensed could possibly be her magic power. The explanation still wasn't satisfactory, but he let the matter drop. There were more important things to worry about.

_**A/N:** In the canon, Zeref thought Mavis was dead—treating her body as an object when he dumped her in front of Precht, saying she would never wake up and speaking of her in the past tense. However, Mavis was officially undead; she said that during the thirty years Precht attempted to revive her, she was in a state of suspended animation, "neither living nor truly dead." Because you cannot resurrect someone who isn't deceased, Precht's efforts didn't revive her; they created Fairy Heart. Had Zeref known that Mavis wasn't dead, I highly doubt he would've abandoned her to her friends, don't you?_

_The reason he isn't acknowledging Mavis's presence like he did in the canon is because he doubts his sanity and also doesn't hear her voice. Let me know what you think by leaving a review. Good story? Boring one? Whatever your opinion may be, thank you for reading and following._


	6. Chapter 6: If We Have Each Other

Zeref slowly blinked awake, the cool temperature of the early-morning air ensuring his muscles were stiff. Over the past two months he'd gradually grown accustomed to the sensation of touching someone, so the feeling of his limbs tightly wrapped around a smaller body didn't faze him. Giving Mavis a perfunctory glance, he disentangled himself and released her despite the enticing warmth between their bodies, then stood and stretched his tense limbs before hefting her weight in his arms.

He had chosen a northern route through Fiore because the quickest southern one entailed cutting through Crocus, due to the capital being sandwiched between two mountain ranges. Being of a mind to avoid people, Zeref didn't fancy strolling through a city swarming with them, much less so with the valuable cargo he carried.

He was passing through a forest close to the Hakobe peaks, and though it was nearly spring the temperature was chillier than the woods around Magnolia had been in December. Speaking of chill, he had acclimated to his lack of a toga but still missed its comforting weight and warmth from time to time. Or at least whenever he remembered to, which wasn't often with the warm girl in his arms.

"Strange," he spoke to her conversationally. "I don't feel as saddened as I did before, Mavis. Although you're no longer with me socially, you're keeping your promise. And you give me purpose."

Talking to her was a habit he had acquired, something he did instead of talking to himself. It was strange indeed how one girl, a comatose one no less, could singlehandedly help stave off his previously ever-present loneliness. It was almost as though she was with him in a spiritual sense as well as a physical. Her presence kept him grounded, providing a constant tangible reminder that he was not alone, and helped stave off the contradictory thinking that so often gave him migraines. Though hating himself was more than easy, he made amends for his involvement in her current condition by determining to revive her, which he apparently had an indefinite length of time to accomplish.

Continuing on through the forest of pine trees, Zeref was grateful for the temporary reprieve his death magic seemed to be granting him. He tried to make it last by momentarily locking away his value and appreciation for the life around him. The less value he possessed for certain things, the easier it was to do; however it would only work for a short period of time, as lying to himself was exhausting and had a way of driving one mad faster than destroying life. Hence the reason he often fled his country to clear his mind for months at a time, only returning when his composure was flawless and boredom caused him to crave mental stimulation.

Regarding his lack of control where Mavis was concerned, no matter how much death energy he'd expelled over the past two months, she had remained unaffected despite the fact that his curse was usually directed at her. For that he was grateful. Puzzled over this enigma, he'd recalled and mulled over his extensive studies regarding the connections between life, death, and magic power from centuries past but so far they weren't helpful in this case.

Another of Zeref's concerns was that were he to bring Mavis to his empire, he would be mixing someone he cared for with those he did not, and due to his lack of control over his emotions for her, he feared he might bring harm to his subservients. He'd always taken care to view and treat them as inferior subjects so his curse would have no effect on them, but it would appear he'd grown soft on emotional management. The length of time between his bouts of destruction had lessened considerably. This line of thought—of seeking to preserve people whom he must hold no value for in order to save—inspired a familiar sense of exasperation and did little to quell the Black Wizard's rising confusion.

His own view of life was distorted enough without having reality break its own rules.

Stopping at a small lake, Zeref began the bathing ritual he'd mastered and used the cold water to clear his head. He wished he could speak to Mavis, wondering how she would advise him. Had she possessed the curse long enough to be fully aware of its nature? He assumed so, due to her intelligent and inquisitive personality. Massaging her scalp and dipping her head in the water for the final rinse, he moved on to the rest of her body.

"You know, I never thought I would be so proficient at bathing an unconscious person." Running his hands over her slender body, he added, "No doubt you would be embarrassed if you knew. With the depravity of my mind, I don't blame you."

Heedlessly letting his gaze wander, he noted that her breasts seemed slightly fuller—but quickly chastised himself for ogling her after determining that it was a trick of the mind. Leaving her on the bank, he stayed close by as he saw to his own bath, having no inclination to let her out of his sight. After the incident of the predator that disastrous night, he'd kept her either in direct contact with himself or in his field of vision at all times to prevent a repeat of his previous mistake.

After they were both clean and clothed, and he had painstakingly braided Mavis's hair (a new skill he'd picked up as a means of dealing with her tangle-prone locks), he put her on his back piggyback style, covering her with his toga and tying the strips of cloth over his waist and chest as a sort of harness to hold her to his back somewhat comfortably. Sensing the familiar brush of her internal energy and ignoring a very different brush of the warm female flesh against his back, he continued his journey through the woods surrounding the mountain range.

He'd hoped her magic power would increase as time went by, but he hadn't sensed more than the smallest increment of change and even that may have been imparted by his hopeful imagination instead of reality. He did sense her presence, however, and at this point he was quite certain it was no trick of the mind, although he allowed for the fact that he might be crazy.

Wondering why she wasn't absorbing ethernano normally, Zeref had entertained the concept of using Living magic on her but quickly discarded that idea because it couldn't restore magic power, and Mavis was not a corpse or a demon to be animated. Also, he hadn't purposefully cast a spell in many years now, having made it a principle in order to avoid combat and interference at all costs. His stand in the world was strictly neutral for the time being, despite his growing empire. In his mind, voluntarily using even a little magic would result in a chain reaction—and he had no intentions of lighting that fuse, despite his thoughtless mistake a few weeks ago.

After a long day's journey, most of which Zeref spent ruminating until his skull throbbed, he paused for the night and prepared to sleep. His stomach was noticeably hollow but he resolutely ignored the unpleasant awareness. This time of year and in this region, no plants were bearing fruit, and killing an innocent animal to satisfy unnecessary desires was distasteful to him. Rubbing his head tiredly, he wondered aloud, "I wonder if you feel hunger as well, Mavis." Remembering how she had starved herself, he felt a pang of sympathy and a corresponding sphere of death energy emanated from him, withering everything in its path except the girl in his arms. She was his anchor.

_'No, I don't feel hunger,'_ a familiarly sweet voice answered in his head.

Startled, Zeref froze, hoping he was going insane if it meant he could hear that voice again. With his brain working to grasp the meaning of what he'd heard despite his shock, he identified the form of magic as Telepathy...and the voice as Mavis's. Unheralded tears sprang to his eyes, threatening to run over.

"Mavis?" he implored aloud, before asking telepathically, _'Are you all right? How are you able to communicate with me? I would think your magic power is too low. And why haven't you contacted me before now?'_ He couldn't help the tinge of despondency that stole into his last question.

Chest tight with anticipation, he was vastly relieved when he heard her apologetic answer._ 'I'm so sorry, Zeref. I don't know how I'm able to use magic power, only that I was unable to utilize it in any form over the past couple of weeks. My spirit has been separated from my body somehow, but it didn't have a form you could see, because I was too weak to project one. Even now, Telepathy is the only type of magic I'm able to use.'_

There was a heartbeat of silence as Zeref absorbed this information, and he closed his eyes as he thought to her,_ 'Because it's the weakest you have at your disposal. Interesting. I'm simply relieved you're not dead, and that your spirit was unharmed by my curse. It must have completely depleted your magic power. Have you been with me this whole time?'_

A lengthy pause, and then Mavis stuttered, _'Y-yes, for the most part. But it wasn't as though I was stalking you or anything! I, uh...it was really kind of you to take care of me the way you've been doing.'_

Zeref smiled as he imagined the blush she would be sporting if she were conscious. _'Don't concern yourself with it. It was no trouble.'_

Realizing he was still standing, he settled down for the evening and reclined against a large trunk with Mavis's body in his arms, subconsciously tracing her cheek with a forefinger as they conversed. Silence filled the air between them as they both remembered the strain of the past months, and the earnest words they'd shared before her supposed death. Breathing in deeply, Zeref released a slow breath._ 'You have something to say?' he_ asked the girl, whose silence was conspicuous.

_'Yes, I...please don't be upset, Zeref. I didn't die, and we're going to find a way to revive my body so we can lift our curse. Together. I meant what I said and I'm proud of you for overcoming the sorrow in your heart. With our bond of love and friendship, nothing is impossible. I don't regret forging it, and neither should you.'_

He knew the truth of her words, but hearing her say them was like a soothing balm to his bruised heart. His eyes filled again and he blinked, chest aching at the understanding and acceptance filling her words, though his curse sought to distort his feelings.

_'I don't regret it, dear Mavis. You've given me true hope, a purpose for which to live.'_

_'I'll never leave you again, if I can help it,'_ she thought back softly.

_'So it wasn't my imagination and I really did sense you.'_

_'You did?'_ She sounded surprised.

_'Yes. I also detected a slight rise in your magic power, which is apparently how you're able to converse with me now.'_

_'You're right. The strange thing is, I'm unable to truly absorb ethernano from the air. Otherwise I would've reached my full strength by now, but my conversion of raw energy to magic power seems to be blocked. I assume that's because of my comatose state.'_

_'How are you able to use magic without converting ethernano?'_ Zeref's brow furrowed as he thought, the logical majority of his brain reeling.

_'I don't know,'_ she answered._ 'The power seems to come...from within me.'_

_'Mavis, that's scientifically impossible. In order for a mage to use magic, your internal energy must fuse with external energy. The more ethernano you absorb, the higher your level of magic power as a result.'_

_'I know that!'_ she thought frustratedly, then sighed. _'Whatever this phenomenon is, we'll figure it out. I'm just grateful we can finally speak.'_

_'So am I,'_ he thought quietly. '_I've missed you.'_

_'I wanted to talk to you, Zeref, and I tried more than once, but...'_

_'Don't worry, I understand.'_

He held her body closer to his, letting their reunion soothe his lonely yearning. The blessed moment passed soon enough, with both parties tacitly acknowledging that they would never be separated again.

_'Where are we going? I've been so curious.'_ Mavis asked softly.

_'To my country over in Alakitasia,'_ he thought, slightly surprised that he hadn't mentioned it over the past couple of weeks.

_'Your country? You're taking me there? Oh, I'm so excited!'_

He smiled at her enthusiasm. _'Yes, I'm taking you there. And I'm going to find a way to wake you once we arrive. You'll get your body back, one way or another.'_

_'I know,'_ she thought trustingly, then added lightly,_ 'And it won't be a moment too soon. I miss being able to touch tangible things.'_

_'Mavis, thank you,'_ Zeref said, swallowing against the ache of emotion in his throat. _'Talking to you has made me happy.'_

Around them, more trees withered and disintegrated and animals died as a particularly powerful bout of death energy emanated from his cursed body, swirling around them to further blacken the progressing night.

_'I could say the same to you,'_ she thought back to him._ 'I may not have spent centuries in exile, but less than one year was enough to instill in me a greater value for human companionship.'_

_'This curse has a way of doing that, yes,'_ he reflected sardonically, lying down as the trunk supporting his back decomposed. Situating Mavis alongside his body, her head against his shoulder and her arm across his chest, he folded his arms behind his head and relaxed as dusk settled.

_'It must have been so hard for you,'_ she thought soberly. _'Losing everyone you loved, and then thinking you'd lost me as well.'_

_'Yes.'_ Remembering the moment he'd discovered she wasn't dead, and his cavalier treatment of her leading up until then, he thought, _'Forgive me for wanting to revive you even when I thought you were at rest, Mavis. My loneliness has driven me to selfishness.'_

_'There's nothing to forgive. I made a promise, and you had every right to hold me to it.'_

Taking a breath, Zeref moved on. _'I'm sorry I...hurt you,'_ he apologized, remembering his regret for her pain when he saw the blood staining her thighs.

_'It didn't hurt that much,'_ she reassured him abashedly, correctly deducing the meaning of his apology._ 'I heal quickly, and I have a higher pain tolerance now. Or had,'_ she added.

He nodded, inwardly relieved. After a moment of silence he mentioned, 'I_ assume the magical effects of your curse have been suspended due to your state of unconsciousness?'_

_'Yes, thank goodness. I'm grateful that it had no effect on you, but how so?'_

_'My theory is that my curse is stronger than yours because of the amount of time I've had it.'_

_'That would make sense, but the answer still doesn't sit well with me. When we were...um...'_

_'Having intercourse,'_ Zeref supplied helpfully, smirking a little as he pictured her blush.

_'Yes.'_ She went on valiantly._ 'Near the end, when my life force was draining, I'm almost certain that I felt my death magic being blocked. If what you said was true, wouldn't my curse have attempted to take your life but failed?'_

He thought it over, and answered, _'That is yet another mystery we'll need to solve.'_

_'Along with why your curse no longer drains my magic power. They seem to be stacking up,'_ Mavis thought playfully.

Zeref smiled, his worries all but forgotten as he basked in her presence. _'You seem to be considerably happier than you were the day I found you.'_

_'I am,'_ she thought, sounding a bit puzzled. _'It must be because I haven't killed anything in months, and I've been enjoying my time with you. You're looking more cheerful as well.'_

_'Yes,' _he admitted, to himself as well as her. _'These past few weeks have been some of the best in my wretched existence.'_

He thought he could sense her smile as she thought, _'That makes me happy.'_

_'Yes, but it doesn't take much to make you happy, Mavis.'_

_'Are you implying that I'm easy to please?'_

_'It's one of the things I enjoy about you.'_ Zeref smoothed the hair from her face and arranged it in a trail behind her.

_'Do spirits need to sleep?'_ he asked.

_'I rest as much as I did when I was conscious in my physical body, but thankfully I'm unable to feel much cold.'_

_'We'll determine the remainder of what needs to be done during the journey,'_ he thought to her.

_'Yes,'_ Mavis agreed._ 'Now rest. I'll be watching over you.'_

Turning over to tuck her small body into the lee of his own out of habit, Zeref murmered, "You'd better be with me when I wake up," before slipping into a dreamless sleep with his face buried in her fragrant hair.

_**A/N:** In Fairy Tail, a wizard is able to use magic when their internal energy (magic power) melds with the raw natural energy in the air (ethernano). Normally, a wizard dies when depleted of all magic energy, but that wasn't the case with Mavis. Zeref's curse took her power and rendered her unable to absorb the ethernano in the air due to her catatonic state. As for how she's able to use magic now, can you guess?_

_In the canon, my theory is that she was unable to use magic until Precht created Fairy Heart, not being able to utilize August's power due to whatever crap Precht did to her. Makarov mentioned that Mavis awoke from her "eternal slumber" to save the Tenrou team via Fairy Sphere, 78 years after she fell unconscious. Thus the reason she was unaware of August's existance._


	7. Chapter 7: Silver Lining

Mavis was there for Zeref the next morning, which was the one of the more pleasant experiences of his life. Though he was usually one to dislike mornings—and falling into consciousness in general—waking to her presence made it a different ordeal entirely.

_'Zeref.'_

He willed the voice to silence itself, moving his head as though he could escape it.

'Zeref! Wake up,' it persisted, and to his disgruntlement he came to his senses as the mantle of sleep was rudely jerked from him.

"Mavis? It's hardly past dawn," he protested sleepily.

_'That's not true and you know it. I say it's at least eleven in the morning.'_

"You don't have a clock," he pointed out.

_'And neither do you, sleepyhead. Come on! We have an exciting adventure awaiting us!' _Her voice was eager.

Seconds ticked by as Zeref fully awakened and remembered how he was able to talk to her—that she wasn't a dream—and a feeling almost akin to happiness stole over him. "As you wish," he conceded with a small smile, and shifted his hold on her body in order to stand. Glancing at the sky, he added dryly, "Though it's around seven in the morning, judging by the position of the sun."

_'I know. I'm just eager to get moving.'_

They continued their journey, each reveling in the other's company in their own way. Mavis wanted to press forward past the Hakobe peaks with more vigor than Zeref would have preferred, enthusiastic about arriving in Vistarion, which he had explained was the capital in which his incomplete palace was located. At first the sound of her voice resonating in his head was unnerving as it'd been a while since he'd used Telepathy, but he welcomed it in due time as a source of entertainment and comfort. Her zealous approach to life helped motivate and inspire him, though sometimes her impetuosity could be mildly exasperating.

Traveling through the forest with Mavis on his back the day after she revealed her ability to use Telepathy, Zeref was describing the continent he was currently building his nation in and the differences it held in comparison to Fiore.

"As you've probably noticed, the countries and cities aren't named after foliage there."

_'Yes, I have. Are the citizens less creative?'_

"No, in fact they tend to be more superstitious, from what I've seen. I stay away from them as much as possible but studied their culture before I formed the Alvarez Empire."

_'Is that the name of your country? It sounds rather ambitious.'_

"It's only recently grown to the proportions one might term as such. As of today I haven't visited it in five months, but my second in command and chief administrator handles affairs quite well in my absence."

_'That's some long distance management,'_ Mavis observed in amazement.

"Yes, but it's served me well so far. Alvarez is growing rapidly. Though I'm not entirely sure what I wish to accomplish with the power I'm acquiring, it's an interaction I've allowed myself. They view me as something of a god there," he explained to his companion.

_'Zeref, I meant to ask you about that. You mentioned when we met that you were preparing for something; a war. What purpose would fighting achieve?'_

He hesitated, then answered with a voice that was noticeably less carefree, "Nearly three centuries ago it was my solemn vow to defeat the Dragon Slayer Acnologia, who at the moment wields the most potential power of any being walking this earth." Sighing at Mavis's expectant silence and preparing himself for a speech, he continued, "No, Acnologia isn't a myth. I assure you, he is real. It is still my goal to slay him, but in sending my most powerful demon-turned-Dragon-Slayer, Natsu, and four other young Slayers to the future I also had more selfish motives in mind. I'd hoped Natsu would possess the power to end my cursed existence, a hundred years from now. The war I was referring to will be waged against Acnologia, but sometimes I wonder whether I should do this world a favor and wipe mankind's presence from the earth for good."

At this point in his monologue, Mavis intervened with a gasp._ 'What?! No! How could you ever plan a thing so evil? What favor would it do them to be slaughtered like ants?'_ Despite the reproach in her words, her voice was filled with an equal amount of sadness.

"Calm yourself, I haven't laid out plans for such carnage just yet." He soothed her immediately. "I assure you I could, but I haven't seen enough evidence of their devolution to do so despite the suffering they insist on sustaining. The very nature of my curse constitutes disdain, however, and I fear it's only a matter of time before I fall to the darkness. You've felt it, just as I have. You know what eventually happens to those bearing this curse."

She was silent for a long moment, before she thought in a small voice, _'Yes, I do. I made that discovery months ago.'_

Zeref nodded, pleased that she had seen eye-to-eye with him. She really did understand.

_'But that was before we discovered each other,'_ she went on, while he listened in reluctantly dawning hope. _'The enforced solitude of our mutual affliction is what drives us to insanity and evil, but that same affliction is what brings us together—it's the reason we're speaking now. I'm like you, Zeref. But I haven't fallen to the darkness, and neither will I let you. We'll find a cure. Together.'_

"Yes," he breathed under his breath. Clearing his throat, he acquiesced, "Yes. We will, Mavis." But he couldn't help remembering the desolation he'd felt within his soul as he'd stared at her lifeless body that fateful morning, and knew that were she to leave him again, he wouldn't recover.

_'And that means no more talk of wars or mass annihilation.'_ Mavis interrupted his private thoughts, her childish voice incongruously stern as she addressed the Black Wizard. _'I understand the threat Acnologia poses, but if you sent the young Dragon Slayers into the future then he won't interfere in humanity's affairs until then. If I understand him correctly, his goal is to kill all dragons, including their students.'_

"Which gives me a century to prepare," Zeref mused, stepping over a fallen tree as the cheerful tweets of a dozen birds wafted pleasantly over his ears.

Mavis persisted in her tenacious manner, _'Also, from what I've read, Dragon Slayer magic is very powerful and deadly to dragons, so I think they will have what it takes to counter and possibly defeat Acnologia for good. You may not even have to get involved.'_

"Perhaps, but I wouldn't underestimate him. This topic tires me," he went on. "There is only so long one can debate the particulars of a strategy game."

He came out of the sparse pine trees and into a clearing where a cotton-tailed doe scampered away from drinking her fill in-

_'Is that another pond?'_ Mavis asked resignedly.

"There are more bodies of water near the foot of the mountain range than in the plains," Zeref answered calmly, but a bit testily.

_'Zeref, about that. I know you like to be clean and all, but isn't bathing every day a little excessive for the winter? It makes me shiver just watching you!'_

"Forgive me, it's a habit I've acquired. We could postpone it until tomorrow."

_'Thanks, I want to reach Shirotsume as soon as we can. And the water's cold,'_ she added, invoking a smile from him.

"I take it the interrogation is over?" He asked mildly, referring to their rather one-sided conversation.

_'Oh! I'm sorry—I didn't mean to ask so many questions.'_

"Don't apologize, Mavis."

'Okay then, one more. When do you think we'll arrive in Alvarez?'

"I calculate around ten months, though the time doesn't matter as long as your condition remains stable or improves," he answered.

'That seems like forever from now!' she almost pouted.

"Having no better mode of transportation, what would you suggest?"

_'Yes, I get your point.'_

_'What?'_ He asked, his tone different. _'I couldn't hear you.'_

_'I said I get your point,'_ Mavis thought, louder this time and feeling slightly exasperated at Zeref's behavior.

"Your voice broke and I heard a bit of static. Are you running low on magic power?" He asked seriously, using his voice instead of thoughts to reduce the strain on her Telepathy magic.

'Yes, now that you mention it. I'll rest a while.'

_Don't go_ was poised on Zeref's lips, but he swallowed the words and resumed walking. He knew he would hear her voice again.

...

The next day, Zeref got his bath, to Mavis's embarrassment. The atmosphere between them was different now that he knew she was conscious, and she wanted to dispel the awkward tension dictating their relationship and have it over with. A little of her magic power had restored, so she suggested they stop to bathe during their next conversation and to her relief his manner was more matter-of-fact than anything else when he accepted. Although she couldn't feel his hands on her skin as he untied the toga to unwrap her like a parcel, she knew he could feel everything.

She'd planned on saying something to lighten the tense atmosphere, but instead changed her mind about using Telepathy as Zeref removed his clothing, predictably folding it the way that he liked. She would've blushed, had she been in her body, but settled for averting her vision from his nude form. She wasn't unaffected by the sight of a toned male, to her chagrin. The next moment Zeref turned to look directly through her and asked telepathically, _'Why are you standing so far away?'_

His voice in her head startled her._ 'You can sense me?!'_

"Yes," he replied softly. Turning to lift her naked body, he froze, staring at it alertly.

_'Z-Zeref?'_ Mavis asked, mentally squirming._ 'What are you staring at?'_

"It's nothing," he said, though his youthful brow was furrowed in consideration.

He appeared to brush the thought aside as he picked her up and proceeded to wade into the deep stream. Their bare skin was touching, and suddenly Mavis wished she could feel his arms and hands against her. Once he was waist-deep she didn't feel quite so exposed, but Zeref remedied that by starting to skillfully bathe her.

_This is no different than the other times he's washed you,_ she reminded herself sternly, and turned to avoid the stirring sight of his hands gliding over her body.

_'I wish you were awake,'_ Zeref's voice in her head broke the silence.

_'I will be, soon,'_ she responded, her voice abashed but strongly resolute.

"This will be our last bath in a while," Zeref ventured, breaking the silence of the cold winter atmosphere. "We're nearing the foot of the mountain and the temperature is dropping, meaning the water will be frozen."

He was correct in that prediction. Late the next week, the two were relaxing as a wintry sun set below the evergreen pine trees. Vibrant magenta color fused with dark blue as stars pricked the twilight sky, pinholes in the curtain of heaven. They had reached the Hakobe peaks and would continue their journey around the foot of the great mountain the next morning. For now, however, they rested as a cloud blotted out the stars by the thousands and the temperature dropped, heralding an early March snowfall. Not a noise could be heard by the creatures in the forest as the first flake fell, then the next, and the sky gradually released a blanket of fluffy ice.

_'Aren't you cold?'_ Mavis inquired.

"Yes." Zeref replied. "But it doesn't bother me as much it does you."

His back against a tree and Mavis in his lap, he felt the cold burn of melting snow on his face and forearms as he stroked her hair absentmindedly. After years of living in the elements, he had reached a compromise concerning his aversion to the discomforts of weather ages ago.

"Your magic power has been increasing, slowly but surely," he mentioned. "As long as you allow it to rest between uses you shouldn't get fatigued."

_'I noticed.'_ She thought to him, contemplating what the reasoning could be behind this fact.

Their conversations had the potential to be long, and once they began talking it was hard for either to say the last word, but they'd managed to prevent draining what little power she could control after the incident of their second conversation, by keeping interactions short and mostly practical. Which was why Zeref was caught off-gaurd when Mavis asked in her usual upbeat tone, _'Zeref, do you love me?'_

He opened his mouth to reply and closed it. Was that a hint of hesitation he'd detected in her voice?

The silence was so intense that the hushed symphony of thousands upon thousands of snowflakes softly crashing into the ground could be heard between the rough staccato of his heartbeat. The recent pain of what he'd thought he had lost was relived over the period of a few seconds, and he remembered what he'd spoken to the dismal dawn, the morning after that fateful night. Even when—and ever since—he had discovered she was alive, a small part of him had remained fettered by the wariness of one who has had a lover brutally taken from them, and now he was reluctant to expose himself in such blatant vulnerability.

The serene silence only a winter's night could provide helped clear his head of the familiar fog of contradictory overthinking, seeing past the lies to his own heart. The struggle was harder than Mavis could've imagined.

Clearing his throat, he admitted in a low voice, "Yes...I love you." The air pressure around them doubled as he gratefully breathed in a burning lungful of freezing air. He hadn't intended to lose control of his emotions with that confession, but the end result was non-existent trees and thus no dense canopy of pine needles to protect them from the descending flurries in the wake of his annihilating magic.

_'And I love you too,'_ her voice was gently kind, accepting but not pitying, and so beautifully sweet it took the Black Mage's breath away_. 'You have nothing to lose by admitting it. It helps your heart to grow stronger, and counters the darkness threatening from within you.'_

"But Mavis," Zeref let out a breath of air, the moisture in it crystallizing into a cloud of condensation invisible to them in the pitch black storm. "When I revive you...unless I can lift my curse before then, my very presence may easily kill you, or put you back into a coma." The unspoken words and I couldn't bear that hung in the air between them. "Who's to say that our luck will hold out?"

_'I understand your concerns, Zeref, but I'm immortal. If our act of love in that forest couldn't kill us, then nothing can! We've been given a priceless gift. We should treasure it.'_

He pressed the poisonous doubts to the back of his mind, for her sake, and nodded. It was strange to hear another describe his immortality, hated for centuries, as a priceless gift. "For now, we will. But when we discover how to revive you, and we will, I will have to decide on my emotions. I cannot afford to lose you...not again."

_'Zeref,'_ she whispered sadly. She had observed him grow over the past few months, happy to watch as he picked himself up and didn't seem as crushed and hopeless as before. She had a dreadful sense of what he would've become had he thought she was dead, and she'd already guessed that her presence was the linchpin of his sanity at present, but to hear him say it out loud still made her heart ache.

Resolving to continue that discussion a different day, she asked,_ 'Does my body retain heat?'_

Caught slightly off-gaurd, Zeref blinked, then replied, "It generates it. Why do you ask?"

_'I noticed that you had a tendency to sleep in close contact with me, especially on colder nights, but recently you've been more distant. Due to the icy ponds and snow we've encountered, today is the coldest day yet. Why don't you use my—I mean your—toga as a sheet to keep the snow off of us, and retain our warmth that way?'_

"I wasn't thinking in terms of comfort," he responded lightly, reflecting that he could create a fire without having to snap his fingers or say _voila_. Reminding himself why magic was off the table, he felt instead for the knot of cotton material covering Mavis's chest. Deftly untying it, his fingers brushed the warm, delicate bare skin unintentionally. This time he had a feeling that the changes in her perky breasts weren't in his imagination. Though he couldn't see them in the dark, they felt rounder, softer, and he forced his inquisitive fingers from them in order to quickly finish unfastening her garment.

Rolling her to the side, he pulled the toga from beneath her and stiffly shook it out to cover them like a sheet. Shaking the accumulated snow from his hair, Zeref pulled the makeshift blanket over their heads after gathering Mavis's hair and wrapping it partially around them like a blanket, so there'd be no barrier between their bodies except his black tunic. Sliding his left arm underneath her head and his fitting his right over her waist, he tucked her small body into the curve of his in his favorite sleeping position, where she fit perfectly, and waited for their combined warmth to provide comfort.

The skin of her abdomen was smooth and firm against his hand, and he inhaled the pleasing scent of her hair slowly. Suddenly remembering what it was he'd forgotten a week before, when they'd last bathed, Zeref spread his fingers against her belly, curious as to whether the weight she'd gained had been his imagination. Feeling the slightest distension of the usually flat plane of her stomach, he did a double-take and passed his hand over it once more. It was definitely there, the slight swelling noticeable only if one was extensively familiar with the body of Mavis.

Which he was. Worry rising in his chest inexplicably, he began hastily sorting through possible explanations for weight gain.

The blood drained from Zeref's face as a suspicion crept over him for the first time, the only one that he could apply to the situation. Besides studying human biology at the Academy, he knew little of pregnancy. He did know how it occurred, however, hence the reasoning behind his suspicion. The ever-present magic power he felt from her brushed against his, and he was perfectly still for a few minutes, piecing the puzzle together. No amount of years spent on earth could've prepared him for the realization he reached. Eyes wide in the dark and a strange expression crossing his face, he thought,_ 'Mavis?'_

_'What's wrong?'_ she responded instantly.

"I..." Inwardly chastising himself for his hesitation, he steeled his nerves.

"You're pregnant." Zeref spoke bluntly, seeing no other way to put it.

Silence.

Then,_ 'What do you mean?'_ she asked in a small voice, which exponentially rose in volume as she continued telepathically, '_That could be possible, but where is the baby's magic aura?'_

Zeref remained silent as Mavis worked it out, still feeling rather awed himself.

Her voice taking on a new note, she gasped_, 'Oh no. Have I been using his power this whole time? That would explain why we're able to—oh, this is awful!'_

"Calm down," Zeref intervened, his agile brain analyzing the situation. "I'm shocked as well, but we need to think rationally. This discovery would explain the magic power I've been sensing, although I'm not sure whether it was yours or the child's from the start." Remembering the events of the past months, he continued drawing conclusions in the map of his mind and connecting them to form a feasible hypothesis. The baby's power must have fused with Mavis's own, hence the reason he had been unable to detect his magical signature, and he felt stupid for missing the seemingly obvious explanation for her ability to use magic.

"Since life cannot abide in a wizard without magic power, I assume you still had some of your own—unless your curse allowed you to survive without it—but too little for me to detect, and to compensate your body began utilizing the magic energy of the life inside you and converting it into your own power. As for whether the babe suffered because of it, your magic power has been increasing, has it not? If this baby were subject to death, my own death magic would have surely killed him by now," Zeref stated matter-of-factly, albeit with difficulty. "I think he is granted your immortality, for the time being, because of his connection to you and his station inside your body as a part of it, so to speak. I doubt he's suffered any ill effects. You were unable to fill your own vessel with ethernano from the air, but the fetus seems to have had no problem harvesting it."

_'Which means I've been absorbing it, but I'm unable to utilize it via magic power fusion for some reason?'_ Mavis concluded, sounding less stunned and more practical now, a bit of her strategic side showing through.

"Exactly," he said approvingly. "The fact that he's supplied the both of you with magic power makes me wonder just how powerful our child is," he added wonderingly, his hand still covering her bare midriff.

_'Our child,' she_ repeated, and laughed with quicksilver joy.

Surprised to hear someone sound so giddy over the discovery that they were fathering a child with a cursed murderer, Zeref promptly remembered who Mavis was. "Yes," he replied, an ironic smile curving his mouth.

_'This makes me so happy! Will it be a boy or a girl? What color will his hair be? His eyes? What magical abilities will he have?'_ Her rapid-fire questions faded, and her next words were weighted with the dark wisdom that only the elderly or overly experienced managed to garner as she asked, slowly, _'How will he survive?'_

The slight smile had faded and Zeref subconsciously tightened his arms around her as he realized the inevitable. "We'll...have to send him away, Mavis. At the very least, someone else will have to raise him."

_'No! He deserves to be loved, and we can't let him fall into the hands of strangers! He must know his parents care for him-'_

"Mavis," he said, his voice firm despite the wavering ache in his overtaxed heart. "He'll have the best of everything, believe me. As for us, we're cursed. We aren't allowed the luxury of loving anyone but each other, and perhaps not even that. Do you want this child to die? You know neither of us have what it takes to hold back our emotions at present, and were we to attempt to raise him..." His cold voice trailed off as a single tear burned its way down his temple, carrying with it a father's silent anguish.

_'We'll lift the curse,'_ Mavis reaffirmed resolutely._ 'I swear on it, Zeref.'_

"As do I." He palmed her swelling stomach gently before saying, "But first, I intend to revive you. I need you by my side for us to lift it, and once the baby's born I believe you'll lose your—or rather, his or her—magic."

_'Alright, then,'_ she agreed.

"You should rest before you exhaust your power," he murmered.

_'It's been getting stronger recently, but after the discovery we just made I feel as though I could use some rest,'_ she consented.

And the snow covered the toga above them both as they fell into a deep rest. Far from the absence of danger and worry, but at the moment safe in the comfort of each other's arms.

_**A/N:** A better explanation of the magical energy Zeref's been sensing inside Mavis: she may have had a very small amount left over after he eradicated it, but that isn't what he's been sensing. It takes anywhere from half an hour to a few days for sex cells to unite and form an embryo, and conception to occur. In the canon (if my theory can be applied to it), I believe Zeref's emotional state can be blamed for his failure to notice what Precht sensed within minutes of being left with her body. You can't really blame him if he initially felt no magical power emanating from her, and was too lost in grief to notice when it began. That's my possibly-canon-compatible theory, anyway._

_Mavis is able to absorb the magic energy from August because it's sourced within her, and August is able to harvest ethernano from Mavis because she's absorbing it but is unable to fuse it with her magic power. Sorry if it's confusing. Oh, and I also apologize for writing so many bathing scenes. I just can't help it with these two._


	8. Chapter 8: Ethereal Daydream

A month's time passed, during which the changes in Mavis's body became increasingly apparent and the reality of the situation was driven home to Zeref. Feelings of pride and irritation (courtesy of his affliction) warred within his mind whenever he saw the evidence of his life within her, both anticipating and fearing the day he would truly be a father, though logically speaking he'd held the title for months now.

Worse than his contradictory emotions concerning his child were those he held for Mavis herself, though he'd managed to hide the darker ones from her so far, baring only his love for her instead. He did love her—deeply, unconditionally—and yet his mind was a constant stream of confusing intentions and emotions. Some moments evil would surface from the churning cauldron of thoughts instead of kindness, leaving the Black Wizard confused and distraught in the aftermath of his age-old struggle between love and hate. He understood as much as he was capable that his conflicting feelings were a result of the curse and were thus invalid, but that knowledge made them no less real in their intensity. At least Mavis was free of the same problem for now, the negative effects of her curse being temporarily negated and her concerns focused more over the baby's wellbeing than her own imminent destruction.

_'How is ithe baby getting enough nutrients?'_ she asked about her pregnancy once, and he answered.

"I assume it's due to your body's reconstruction of all tissues and vitamins. Since the fat is broken down into sustenance for the child, your immortality ensures that it regenerates immediately-"

_'-thus creating a never-ending supply of food for the developing fetus.'_ Mavis finished, and he pictured her thoughtful look in his mind's eye.

"The regenerative effect of immortality can play to our advantage sometimes," Zeref affirmed.

And so time flowed on, logged only due to his awareness that such details were necessary to measure their progress.

...

_'You'd think the snow would've let up by now,'_ Zeref heard Mavis's voice in his head above the howling wind. They had been traveling for several hours and had yet to pass the foot of Mount Hakobe.

"I'm afraid we'll have to stop. This wind is blurring my sense of direction and I may end up wandering in circles," he replied. Nearly walking into a tree, he unharnessed her body and settled down with his back against the trunk to patiently wait for the swirling, frozen whiteness to recede.

One month had passed since their unexpected discovery, and the couple had yet to unearth any well-founded ideas on how to revive Mavis. For Zeref's part, being in possession of a greater realm of knowledge than his companion made him that much more inclined to try and solve the problem before they reached Alikatasia. The live ticking clock between them known as their child certainly enhanced his determination, but so far few breakthroughs had promised hope. At least they'd been making steady progress through Fiore, with no setbacks having been encountered so far.

Other problems were on his mind as he sat with his back to the stable tree; there were the questions of whether Mavis's curse had been permanently nullified by her coma...whether she would raise their child without him. He hadn't broached this guilty fear to her, but he wondered whether he was fated to lose her no matter what they did. As he meditated, the storm gradually relinquished itself to April's clutches and the blinding whiteness receded, allowing him to stand up and prepare for travel once more.

_'Zeref,'_ Mavis ventured, breaking into his thoughts_. 'You've been quiet recently. You aren't already blaming yourself for our lack of a solution, are you?'_ Because her magic power had been steadily increasing as the baby developed, she was able to use it for longer periods at a time as the days passed. They'd carry on discussions that lasted for hours from time to time, a simple interaction that helped keep each other sane and grounded.

He sighed, watching the resulting white cloud of condensation rise in the cold air. "It worries me. No magic that I've studied would be safe to use in this instance. Your case is most peculiar. It would be much simpler if you were merely under some spell I could disenchant."

_'Cheer up. I know you're worried—so am I, but we have five months during which to improvise our plan. I trust you.'_ Her cheerfully warm voice brought a smile to his face, in the way that only she could.

"Keep thinking in case anything comes to you," he reminded her, and the pair fell silent as they continued along the foot of the mountain. He estimated that they'd reach Shirotsume in another month if they continued at the pace they were currently travelling. Arriving in Alvarez wasn't the problem; finding a cure for Mavis's mysterious ailment was, and he had a feeling the goal was even less attainable than it sounded. Despite his fear of loss and conflicting ideas he enjoyed their time together, yet simultaneously felt the weight of that time cinching around them in grim significance.

Each ticking second and heavy footstep drew them closer to what could be Mavis's death...or salvation.

...

The days passed, many the same as the last, with the pair making steady progress towards their next checkpoint: the aforementioned village of Shirotsume. The unpredictable weather had calmed itself two weeks into April, with the temperature rising a fraction to tease the couple with the first glimpse of spring. Zeref wasn't fooled; he knew there was another snowstorm waiting to blindside them, but Mavis predictably greeted the season's turning with more enthusiasm and chattered away.

_'Won't you be happy when it isn't so cold all the time? I'm looking forward to seeing the many varieties of foliage in these parts.'_

Pleased that her cheerfulness had fully returned, and secretly suspecting she was trying to cheer him up, Zeref let a smile play on his lips as he agreed with the excited girl. Walking past an abandoned cabin—which they didn't explore, to Mavis's disappointment—he neglected to avoid an indentation in the ground and a few seconds later his boots were covered in thawing mud, a development he eyed with slight displeasure. He had become less superficially apathetic lately, not that he'd noticed, but Mavis had and was pleased with her hardwon handiwork.

_'You should probably rinse those,'_ she advised, a suggestion he decided to pay heed to. Feeling her slightly rounded stomach brushing his back with every step as he headed towards a creek, he suddenly realized that the perpetual jostling movement probably wasn't beneficial for the baby, and paused in his tracks. Kneeling as he unfastened Mavis from his back, he retied her makeshift clothing and held her body to his front to carry her bridal-style.

Interpreting her quizzical silence, he explained before she could ask, "In case your position on my back is detrimental to the baby."

_'I should have thought of that,'_ Mavis agreed, a little glum at her failure to see the obvious. But her heart secretly warmed at Zeref's apparent care for their child. Since their discovery of the baby's existence, neither had spoken of it to the other except in passing. Until today, Mavis had had her doubts about whether Zeref truly cared for their unborn baby. Unfortunately she couldn't see his hands as they cradled her expanding stomach at night, or hear the doubts running through his mind of whether he would be a proper father. He wanted to be, as much as his contradictory nature would allow.

Rinsing his boots in a shallow creek, he watched the water turn murky and swirled his foot in it.

_'Don't drop me,'_ Mavis warned, a hint of something that sounded suspiciously like laughter present in her voice.

Slightly annoyed and amused at the same time, Zeref purposefully loosened his grip on her and swayed as he stood over the creek, and was rewarded with a squeal.

_'It's muddy! Don't,' _she protested, breaking into giggles. Though she wouldn't feel the icy water, the thought of her body being cold and clammy was enough to make her shudder regardless.

"Would you prefer a proper bath then?" he challenged smoothly.

_'Not now, we've made so much progress. Let's push on.'_

"As you wish," he smiled as he lifted her against his chest. "Before I resume our journey, I'll have to do something about the way I carry you."

Mavis watched with interest as he laid her on the ground and unfastened the cloth around her in broad daylight, grateful that he could only sense and not observe her spirit, for no one wishes to be seen blushing uncontrollably.

"Sorry," he murmered sympathetically.

_'No, i-it's fine! Do what you must.'_

Letting the fabric fall open around her body, Zeref lifted her onto his lap—toga and all—and rewrapped her, crossing the ends of her makeshift clothing together around his back and tying them over each of his shoulders this time. The end result was that his arms were free to move, but Mavis was comfortably held against his front bridal-style. Well, as comfortably as he could manage, which wasn't much with one thin layer separating him from her tempting body. He held his tongue and pushed on stoically, reasoning that he'd never been in such close contact with a woman before Mavis and it was natural to have baser urges where she was concerned.

To distract himself as he walked, he resumed thinking about matters that existed purely in the existential realm. There was something that had been weighing on his mind for a while now, ever since she revealed her spirit to him, but he'd been hesitant to ask her lest she derive the wrong meaning from the question. Or worse yet, have it bring up bad memories for both of them. Reasoning they'd been together long enough for her to understand he meant only curiosity by it, Zeref asked, "Mavis, how soon were you conscious—as a spirit, that is—after I...put you in a coma?"

It took a moment for her to answer, and when she did, her voice was a shade less bright. _'I'm not sure of the exact amount of time I was unconscious...I remember nothing from then, just a state of...'_

He waited, patiently.

_'I guess it can only be described as nothingness. Do you know that feeling you have after you wake up, but you can't remember ever falling asleep and you're surprised to see yourself in bed?'_

"Conceptually yes, but practically no," Zeref answered expediently.

She gave a small huff of amusement, and went on, _'Well, it's something like that.'_

"You felt nothing, then? Would you say it's similar to how you would imagine non-existence to feel, or rather, not feel?"

_'Yes, I think so,'_ Mavis answered, a hint of something close to suspicion present in her usually gullible voice. _'Why are you thinking about it?'_

"Curiosity, of course. Why else would I- Oh."

It was a tacit rule between them that they didn't speak of the times before they met, the emotions attributed to those dark days, or anything concerning their mutual death wish before their paths forever linked course; somehow, it seemed life was easier to manage when one wasn't forced to deal with the reality of centuries' worth of pain and misery. These golden months were their respite from it all, a chink in the monotony of loneliness, and it was easy to convince themselves that there was no pit to climb out of when they weren't forced to gaze back down at the chasm they'd left.

Recovery hadn't scratched the surface yet, but the calm they were experiencing now was refreshing.

"Forget about it," Zeref said lightly, stroking her back through the taut fabric of his toga though she couldn't feel the comforting pressure. This was their time; that can of worms could stay on the shelf for another day.

...

Two weeks and tens of thousands of steps later, precisely as they'd calculated, the distant city of Shirotsume was visible through a thinning of the trees on a hilltop where they stood observing the civilized scene. Houses and a chapel stood in neat rows, with only the rooftops visible to the travelers.

_'There it is, Zeref! I haven't seen a city in so long.'_ Mavis sounded wistful.

"Unfortunately, even if our presence wasn't a danger to the populace we wouldn't have time for dawdling," Zeref said, though he understood her desire to be among them. She'd only left human society a year ago, after all, and doubtless missed her friends and the ability to freely mingle with any of the seventeen million citizens of Fiore as the town so invitingly beckoned. As for Zeref, he had forgotten the comforts of humanity long ago, drowning in his own inescapable loneliness until he'd met a human girl who not only understood his predicament, but managed to keep the same innocence he'd thought he lost. He hardly considered himself human. Turning from the sight, Zeref began their journey around the town. Skirting the southern side of the village wouldn't be too inconvenient a detour.

_'Our next destination is a small village near the Pacific Ocean, correct? You're more knowledgeable about geography than I am,'_ Mavis added as they walked down an incline in the woods.

Feeling her rounded stomach press into his front through the tunic, he answered, "The western seaside town of Yashinoki, you are correct. The land isn't as densely populated here in the north as it is further south, which will work to our advantage." Because of the time limit he knew her pregnancy imposed, he added, "I calculate our arrival to be in another four and a half months, which won't leave us time to cross the Pacific to Alakitasia."

'I've never crossed it, but you seem experienced. How long does it take?' Mavis asked worriedly.

"A month." Zeref said flatly, letting out a slow breath as those two words sank in. That was assuming they would travel alone. "Unless we pick up our pace, or have help crossing it, we hypothetically may not reach the safety of Vistarion in time for either you or the babe to survive. I won't let either of you come to harm if I can help it, however."

Mavis remained silent, before saying sincerely, _'Thank you, Zeref.'_ She would never take for granted the reassurance of having a knowledgeable, not to mention powerful, mage on her side.

They were both aware of the dangers of giving birth in Ishgar. Neither would be able to care for the baby, nor could Zeref communicate with Mavis, and they would be forced to rely on the help of strangers or worse. He couldn't allow that to happen—he needed to pick up the pace, before he resorted to different means.

...

A month later, spring had arrived in full force, with mild weather finally easing their passage for the first time in months. The woods were once again filled with vitality in the form of a kaleidoscope of wildlife and foliage, complete with a few stray flowers here and there amidst the decaying leaves from the previous fall. In the meadows and hills Zeref passed, the gentle green of young grass matured under the warm sunlight as he walked, taking care not to step on any of the small beatles or anthills in his path despite the exhaustion weighing him down. Even his enhanced endurability was running out, mental and physical fatigue nagging at his senses. He blinked almost tiredly, keeping his feet moving at a measured pace despite the heaviness in his limbs, until Mavis finally snapped.

_'That's enough, Zeref! You're going to rest now. I put my foot down this time—you've been walking nonstop for six days. We're more than making up for the lost time, and at this rate we'll reach Alvarez ahead of schedule. There's no need for you to exhaust yourself!'_ Her words were stern, but filled with compassionate concern.

"Alright, Mavis," he said slowly. "I know you dislike seeing me in discomfort and though I've told you this is nothing compared to what I've experienced before, I'll sleep if it will please you." Walking to the edge of the woods, he sank down into the shady grass, loosening the knots on his shoulders to let down her body and almost collapsing on his back. Closing his burning eyes, he let weariness pull him under. His sleep was usually fitful due to the countless thoughts and worries assaulting his mind, but this instance he was able to sleep soundly for a few hours before drifting into the dreamland of his mind.

_He saw Mavis sitting alone, talking to someone he couldn't see—Zera, as she called her imaginary friend—and she looked up to smile at him. It was August again, the month they'd met. He was reliving the few treasured days he'd taught Mavis and her friends._

_The vision shifted and he was sitting beside her at the base of a tree, explaining the virtues of Law, as well as the consequences of using it. He warned her not to use it, made her promise, and she agreed. He just wanted her to be safe, and though the situation felt strange he was too immersed in the moment to question it._

_But she was different—older, he realized, with a fuller chest and hips that were apparent despite the frilly dress she wore. Hearing her voice and seeing her lips move in conjunction with the syllables she enunciated lightened his mood instantly. He suddenly realized what was so strange about it all; there was no fear cloying his chest for her, no death magic waiting to burst out and claim the life around him, and the hazy confusion that usually clouded his mind was conspicuously absent._

_Suddenly hearing a child's voice calling out to them, he turned to see Mavis reach out to a young boy and sweep him into her arms with a bright peal of laughter, kissing his head tenderly. Watching the intimate scene with a lump in his throat, Zeref's gaze was riveted to Mavis's beaming face as she smiled up at him. Seeing his arms reaching out to take the little toddler, his mind felt disconnected from his body as the boy climbed into his lap with a happy giggle. His eyes...he recognized them with a gasp, though they were unique. Other familiar features became apparent. Blond hair and a trademark cowlick that waved in the breeze. Small hands tugging at his toga._

_"Father..."_

Opening his eyes groggily, Zeref pushed himself up with Mavis's name on the tip of his tongue, and saw her lying semi-naked in the toga he hadn't bothered to refasten, her bare protruding stomach signifying their son's existence. It was a boy, he was uncannily certain of it. The late-May sun had shifted position so they were no longer in the shade, its golden light warming his skin and illuminating hers, making her braided hair shine.

She was so beautiful his breath caught. Her face was clean and restful, and the changes pregnancy had wrought on her body added to its grace and allurement. Her chest was fuller now, her face seeming to glow in the sunlight as his toga looked ready to slip off her entirely. It would be easy to just...his thighs tensed as a tingle ran down his spine and he hardened with lust at the sight of her. He didn't know why she had this effect on him, and he shut his eyes to take a few breaths. When he opened them again, his gaze was drawn to her midriff.

In wonder, Zeref layed his palm over her belly, feeling the warmth and melded magic power of mother and son's combined spirits brushing against his. Looking at Mavis's peaceful face, he quietly promised, "I won't let any harm come to him. You have my word."

_'Nor will I,'_ she thought to him, and he noticed her voice sounded vulnerable.

With the dream still fresh in his mind, Zeref turned his attention to her. "Do you remember the month we met?"

_'I do,' _she said._ 'It was August, X686. I was more interested in obtaining power to save my friends back then, but I remembered your loneliness and wished you well in the years that followed, though I didn't truly understand your pain.'_

"I cherished our time together," Zeref said with quiet sincerity, revealing his true feelings in a rare moment. Mavis knew how difficult it was for him to overcome the cursed confliction that perpetually plagued his mind with its lies. Wrapping her in the toga, he lay back down beside her, pulling her back into his front and slipping his hands inside her makeshift clothing to cradle the child in her womb. "This boy, I want him to be safe. From us. From the world."

Accepting the baby's gender without a qualm, Mavis replied,_ 'We'll find a way to raise him. He needs us.'_

"And what if we're unable to? If I fail, and he is sent away to be raised without us, he would be better off ignorant of the identity of his parents. And even if we were to cheat fate and lift the curse, who's to say he wouldn't thrive more without his murderer of a father?"

_'What? No, he wouldn't. He would need you and he wouldn't understand why you didn't want him. Children are forgiving and he would understand—don't you see?'_

At his silence, she went on with heartfelt conviction._ 'You need to live, for this baby's sake. He'll need us both, and we won't allow him to grow in a world without his parents, facing despair and struggling alone. His magic power is strong, and knowing how powerful you are I'm not surprised.'_

"I'm not the only parent who's powerful... You're right. There's no telling how destructive he could be if he fell into the wrong hands," Zeref agreed reluctantly.

_'What I'm asking you to do isn't easy. Give up your death wish, Zeref. Our son needs you.'_

"I gave it up the moment you told me you accepted me," he said quietly, a hint of ironic anguish creeping into his voice. "I allowed myself to hope for a moment that the nightmare was over. But then...you...I don't know what monster I'd become without you." His voice broke, but he continued. "I have no desire to die as long as you're by my side. But I pity any child I raise."

_'No, you have it all wrong! A child with a father who tries his best is better off than an orphan. I would know; my parents died when I was a small girl.'_

"As did mine."

Mavis was silent a moment as she absorbed this information, her heart going out to him in sympathy._ 'Then you know what it's like to need and miss them! Let's do our best to be there for him. I wanted to die as much as you did, but that was before this child's existence. Before we discovered our love for each other.'_

"We will be there, whether with him physically or not," he agreed solemnly. "I automatically assumed he would be better off without our existence because we would send him away, but perhaps you're right and we'll lift the curse."

_'We will,'_ Mavis insisted, her voice fraught with emotion and determination.

Zeref was silent as he thought, as usual, on methods of revival. Nothing new occurred to him, to his frustration. Their time was running out like sand and it seemed the end was inevitable. Why hadn't her magic had any effect on him, and would that conundrum last once she was revived? He would have to assume so, for the time being.

His head beginning to ache, he filled his nostrils with the scent of fresh air and the light floral fragrance of the wildflowers in the meadow around them. Flattening his palms against Mavis's stomach, he had an idea and intentionally unveiled a bit of his strong magical aura, nearly starting when he felt an answering movement beneath the taut skin of her midriff. It was so slight, a gentle fluttering under his hand, that at first he thought he'd imagined it.

"Mavis," he said in a hushed tone, as if afraid his voice would dispel the precarious memory. "I just felt..."

_'What did you feel?'_

"It moved." Zeref said under his breath. "I felt it—him—move, when I revealed my magic power."

Mavis was similarly awed, sharing in his dubious excitement. 'He must know you're there, then. He was reacting to the power he sensed.'

For a moment, they were simply two parents sharing in the joy of their baby's first kick.

Zeref was smiling, relaxing for once in the warm sunlight and Mavis's presence, when he remembered the reason he shouldn't have stopped for a nap in the first place. Feeling a bit of the cold dread return, he dropped the smile and sat up, reharnessing her to his body and rising to his feet. He finally had a chance at happiness; he wasn't about to throw it away.

_'Zeref, I've been wanting to do something ever since I garnered enough magical power,'_ Mavis interrupted as he was about to resume walking.

Ears prickling at the tone in her voice and turning to where he sensed her spirit to ask what she meant, he was faced with what appeared to be an illusion manifesting itself...of Mavis.

_**A/N:** As for a possible theory on Mavis's projection: Perhaps she was a spirit when she awoke during the Tenrou arc to save her guild, and only projected herself into Fairy Tail members' minds (created the Thought Projection) then. Thus the reason several people were able to sense her presence, such as Zeref and Shelia during the Grand Magic Games arc, but were unable to see her because she didn't project an apparition into their minds. It's called a Thought Projection after all, and is basically a psychic copy of the real person, though some users can give it physical form._

_To lunria14: Oh goodness, such a kind review, thanks! I'm honored. Feel free to ask any questions so I can answer them like this, or create an account so you can follow this story and PM me. Lots of love to all my readers. You guys are my inspiration!_


	9. Chapter 9: Fairy's Glitter

Heart thumping with irrepressible force, Zeref waited with baited breath as Mavis became fully visible.

"A projection?" he asked when he was able to see her in all her resplendent fairylike glory, wearing her trademark frilly pink dress and a bright expression that almost made him certain he would encounter solid flesh if he reached out to touch her.

_'Yes, it's called a Thought Projection. I fused it with my spirit and that way I'm able to use magic—well, somewhat—which is something I wouldn't be able to do with a mere Illusion.'_

"Your magic power has grown stronger, but you're still using Telepathy because it burns less than speaking through your Projection," Zeref observed, impressed and a little proud of her accomplishments. Thought Projections normally took a wizard years to master, let alone project with limited access to magic power. Although her lips were moving in sync with the words she was speaking, he was still hearing them inside his head rather than externally.

_'Yup,' _she replied cheerfully, and the two stood observing each other for a moment. Onyx black eyes met emerald green, then Mavis broke into a little dance, twirling around and giggling before stopping to examine her hands and feet with keen interest. _'Strange as it sounds, I'd grown used to not having a body.'_

Zeref was still watching her when she looked up and caught him staring, lips parted. Skipping over to him on impulse, she launched herself at his chest to throw her arms around his neck and succeeded, but was disappointed when they passed through his body and her attempt at a hug was thwarted.

_'Huh. It's a bit weird, like being inside of one my Illusions,'_ she mused. _'I passed right through you.'_

"Nevertheless, I appreciate the effort," Zeref said, regaining his wits and smiling faintly at her antics as she tried to clap her hands together and pouted. "Come, it's about time we got moving. We can cover more ground while we have daylight."

_'Of course,'_ Mavis agreed, falling into step beside him. Looking down at her, he was reminded of the first time he saw her, over a decade ago. How far she had come since then, but she was still essentially the same, if not a little more grim from her experiences. He would've spared her the pain and suffering she had doubtless experienced if he could, but it seemed she had redeemed her innocence regardless. Those eyes that used to be gaunt and shadowlike were now bright and full of life once more, reflecting her newfound hope for the future.

Her lips were perfect, and he couldn't help remembering how it had felt to kiss them. At the time he'd been so overwhelmed with emotion that he hadn't enjoyed it properly. Admiring the expressions that crossed her face as they walked, he forced his gaze from her before he was caught staring again.

_'Zeref, about your empire,'_ she began, bringing up one of her favorite topics.

"Yes?" he answered.

_'What are the Etherious?'_

"They are demons I've created using Living magic, in an effort to end my life."

_'So they want to kill you?'_ Mavis asked with a gasp, her eyes widening incrementally in alarm.

Slightly surprised and warmed by her apparent care for his life, Zeref answered, "Not at present, no. They worship me. However, they would attack if I gave the signal, as they have in the past. Because none of them have been successful, I use the Etherious I still keep track of as tools to carry out my bidding." He paused. "They've caused many deaths in the past. That was not usually my intention. I wrote violence into their books, neglecting to take into mind the potential consequences in my lust for death."

_'I see,'_ she said slowly.

"I have the resources to take care of you, Mavis. I will wake you, I simply hope it can be done before the baby's birth."

_'Because if we fail, then we may never speak again.'_ She gave voice to the dreadful reality.

They were both silent as the implications of that statement sunk in.

"I won't fail," Zeref swore in a stronger voice. "You will awaken, and we will raise our child together."

Mavis had never heard him sound so determined before. Looking at the side profile of his face as he frowned slightly, she marvelled at the changes in him.

_'Yes,'_ she agreed, the word an echoing of his resolve.

Raising a hand to his forehead, he massaged it as though he could rub away the pain in his skull. It was a gesture she had seen more than once, and she broached the topic to him. _'Does it hurt?'_

His hand froze, and he lowered it back to his side as they walked. "It's nothing to concern yourself over. But thank you for asking."

She wished she could relieve the headache, which was likely the product of stress and thus the reason his supernatural healing abilities hadn't soothed it. Thinking in contradictory terms must exacerbate his affliction.

"Mavis, I was thinking about your magic power. A Thought Projection uses more of it than Telepathy. Will you run out?" he asked.

_'I don't think so. It's grown stronger, and I wouldn't have created this form if I thought I couldn't maintain it,'_ she answered reassuringly.

Looking up to locate the placement of the sun, Zeref stayed on course as they walked on.

_'I must say, your navigational abilities are incredible,'_ Mavis complimented brightly.

"Thank you," he answered modestly, and she was the focus of his gaze for a few seconds.

Lips parting as she stared into his eyes, she blushed slightly and darted her gaze off to the side.

"I've been traveling for centuries," he said, by way of explanation. "When I wasn't resting or researching, I was wandering the wilds. I suppose my travels are paying off."

...

As time went by, Mavis gradually grew accustomed to her immaterial body. After a few weeks spent mostly in worry over methods of revival, one day the couple stopped for the evening to settle down.

The past month had been a change of pace from what they were used to, with her ethereal form walking alongside Zeref, but he'd been too lost in the fears of his own mind to enjoy it as he should have. Her projection didn't fade into the shadows as the sun sank; instead, it shone with a gentle glow that allowed him to see her even in the dark. A beacon of hope just for him. He'd never felt alone since that day he'd found her in the forest, utterly abandoned and desperately depressed, her outward appearance mimicking his inward struggle.

Sitting cross-legged on the forest floor, he inhaled the musky scents of the forest and watched the dying orange-and-pink glow slowly fade from the western sky. The sun had been an invaluable compass to him, guiding him through the periods between the overcast days and ensuring he remained on course. Knowing the land fairly well helped, of course, but it'd been several years since he'd last passed through this area and it was good to have solid guidance.

Mavis was quiet beside him, appreciating the beauty of the sunset's last rays. Looking down at her small face, he was reminded of how they had sat like this a decade ago, discussing magic on a lazy August afternoon.

Her projection wasn't rounded with his child, and he was reminded to look down at the body in his lap to appreciate the sight of her growing stomach. He didn't know why he was drawn to her in this state, and as a whole. Steadily he fought off the opposing thoughts that flooded his being at any feeling of affection or trust. He wanted to break the curse and be with her. He certainly did not want to die, yet he found himself wishing for death and annihilation. Or perhaps he did wish to die and was merely telling himself the opposite as a subconscious means of confusing his curse, and in reality he was pretending to pretend that he didn't want to die in order for-

Trying to break his erratic train of thought, he focused on Mavis's beauty instead, resting his hand on the firm curve of her stomach and forgetting that she was watching his every move. In order to save her he would have to forget the value of her life. If he loved her, her would lose her. If he hated her, he would lose her. But at least she would still be alive, after he revived her. Or did he even want her to wake up? Ignoring the pain in his head, he muttered, "Stop. I know what I want, and you can't take it from me... I'll protect her, from myself if I have to..."

Suddenly his chest tightened and he needed air, his lungs rapidly struggling to draw shallow breaths of oxygen though it wasn't necessary for cellular respiration. His heartrate sped up as the fear of losing her caught up to him in a rush, and beads of sweat formed on his brow as his chest ached. The void stretched before him, centuries of darkness and sin whispering mockingly. How had he kept up the façade for so long? He was no savior, after all it was he who'd put the only person close to him in a coma in the first place. Who'd murdered countless innocents in his selfish bid for death...

Head bowed and eyes tightly shut as his hands came to his temples, Zeref didn't hear Mavis's familiar voice through his hyperventilation until the pitch of it was higher than the agonizing stream of thoughts in his head.

_'Zeref!'_ It cut through his fears like a knife through butter, reaching the receptive part of him that loved her more than himself. _'Don't be afraid. It's the curse tricking you into believing you won't save me. The contradictions in your head are painful, I know, but they'll pass. Just focus on my voice...'_

As she talked him through it, a gasping sob escaped his throat, and he clutched her form tighter to his chest as he allowed the voice of reason to wash over the illogical dilemma of his motives. The round firmness of her belly insistently pressed into Zeref's own stomach, a reminder of his fear and love, but he paid it no heed in order to bury his wet face in her hair and breathe in the familiar, soothing scent.

Mavis wrapped her ethereal arms around his hunched shoulders, murmering endearments to him and wishing she was awake to hug him properly. He could at least sense her presence, and her voice was useful as well, she reasoned. Few in Ishgar would recognize the infamous Black Mage right now, not that they had a decent idea of his appearance. His dark magical aura surged and whirled about them, a sharp contrast to his broken posture as he hugged her seemingly lifeless body. Not lifeless, she corrected herself, because even to a stray observer there would be no mistaking the obvious life within her.

She wondered how a person could be so broken and yet powerful, apparently alive yet dead inside. He was an enigma. Perhaps the secret to breaking his curse lay in his emotional death—death, breaking the curse...suddenly excited, Mavis froze as an idea came to her, flitting around the edges of her consciousness like an illusory butterfly, barely out of reach. Seizing it triumphantly, she burst out,_ 'I think I just had an idea about how to revive my body!'_

Sufficiently calmed enough to be coherent, Zeref lifted his head from his hands wearily. "What?" His young voice was filled with the tiredness of one who'd exhausted all known formulae and was still unable to solve a problem.

Forgetting to withdraw from her embrace of his shoulders, she went on excitedly, _'It just came to me, but I'll try to explain it. When I fell into a coma, my consciousness was separated from my body. Hence the reason we're able to communicate. It's a wild theory—but ever since I formed this Projection, it's been lurking at the back of my head.'_

Eyes wide now, Zeref followed her train of thought, reaching the conclusion he feared she was leading up to before she could voice it.

Lips unmoving as she spoke telepathically, she rushed on,_ 'If we were able to destroy my Thought Projection, then my consciousness could possibly be forced back inside my body, breaking the coma and reviving me! If only I'd seen it before, but I think-'_

"Mavis," Zeref interrupted, his stoic voice betraying little of the calamity within. "If your theory were true, what method of magic do you possess that could destroy a Thought Projection? It's a delicate matter and exceedingly difficult to succeed, if I remember my studies of the magic form correctly."

_'That's the part I was getting to. Remember the Law spell you taught me all those years ago? While I was remodeling it to remove its side effects I discovered two more forms of it I could make, stemming from Primordial magic. I named them Fairy Sphere and Fairy Glitter, and along with Fairy Law they form three of my former guild's Grand Magic Spells.'_

"I must say I'm impressed with your work on Law," he commented, the inventor within interested that she'd found a solution to the consequences of such a spell. He'd never bothered with it. "But go on."

_'I think we could use Fairy Glitter to destroy my Projection.'_

"A caster-type magic? How would it be able to damage it when it can't connect with substance?"

_'My theory would only prove correct if damage can be received by my ethereal form, my spirit as well as Projection—the two are fused, so one cannot be damaged without the other taking a hit also.'_

"How would that not prove dangerous for your spirit? Unless it would only serve to force it back into your body-"

_'-which I think it would,'_ Mavis assured. _'It's an outlandish hypothesis, but we'll never know until we try it. I say the risks are worth the reward.'_

"Not if the risk is your eternal slumber," Zeref intoned quietly. "We'll find another way."

_'Zeref, in under three months my consciousness will be gone indefinitely, if we don't do something.'_ Mavis tried to be reasonable. _'Either way I'll be lost to you. This may be our only hope.'_

"It may not work," he said kindly, too kindly, and she tried not to wince at the raw note underneath his tired exterior.

'Nonetheless, it's worth a try.'

"Very well," he said reluctantly, "Tell me more about this spell."

_'It concentrates and combines the light and power of the sun, the moon and the stars, and its purpose is to vanquish the existence of foes. It's stronger than even Fairy Law, so I have faith in its abilities.'_

"Foes?"

_'Anyone the caster temporarily targets,'_ she rectified.

"I assume it requires a higher amount of magic power to cast than a lower level spell," Zeref noted, pointing out her inability to cast it.

Picking up on what he meant, Mavis said,_ 'Of course, and because it's an offensive spell I still wouldn't be able to use it on myself, silly goose.'_

"I was leading to the conclusion that I'll have to use it," he said quietly.

They were both silent for a moment.

_'Yes, you would. I could teach you,'_ Mavis affirmed determinedly.

Two questions warred for dominance in Zeref's head, one of whether she would be hurt, and the other of what he could do with such power. Too tired to chastise himself, he asked, "You would give me such a weapon?"

_'I trust you,'_ she said simply._ 'And even if I didn't think you had far more powerful spells in your repertoire, I don't believe what people say about you. I've seen nothing in you but a desire to be kind, and I understand your conflicting thoughts as if they were my own.'_

"You don't know what I'm capable of. The extremes to which my curse drove me in the past...the world has always rejected me, but only because of what I've done to it. The wrongs I've committed." Struggling to find the correct words, the usually articulate mage fell silent.

_'I've committed crimes as well,'_ Mavis said gently, as though to remind him of a usual oversight.

"Not like me," he insisted in a voice that was nearly a whisper. "All your sins were involuntary. Many of mine were not. But the worst part is that I want to do it again, and again. I love violence as much as I hate it."

_'That is the curse's lie. You're a good man, Zeref. I know you are!'_

It was dark, but he looked up to search the eyes of her Projection and smiled sadly into their bright depths. She was too innocent to conceive of guilt in someone else. She didn't know the lengths to which he would go to find peace, the crimes that he had committed and was afraid of repeating. Feeling a familiar pain beginning to press into his temples as the troubled thoughts rushed through his mind like a river that corroded the shore which contained it, he sighed.

Mavis looked at him, face full of compassion as she watched his inner struggle. He had hard times like these, she'd discovered. Some days he'd be as peaceful as his curse would allow him to be, while others he would replay the conflicting thoughts in his head over and over until she could see that it ached with sheer tension. It was worse when he denied the motives and wants opposing his own. He wanted to love her, and yet was pushed to hate her. But she knew his true desires, and would behave accordingly—if he ever turned to the darkness, she would perhaps be the only one who understood what he really wanted, the only one to see the pain beneath the cruelty. Her brow smoothed, the answer to her dilemma all too obvious.

Having made up her mind, she looked at his downbent head and said brightly,_ 'So, when do we start? You shouldn't use it until after the baby's birth, in case it doesn't work and also because my curse is practically nullified while I'm in this state and I don't want to run the risk of harming him.'_

Zeref was silent as he weighed the risks. "If it's a transferable magic, then you'll need to give it to me upon our arrival in Alvarez, so it won't fade before I have the opportunity to use it," he acquiesced reluctantly, though the possibility of her death weighed heavily on his mind.

Though he was more than willing to break his self-made rule prohibiting all use of magic, his hesitance lay in the risks of using such a powerful spell on his last link to Mavis—her spirit—but if it was a means of revival then it would seem he had no choice. He'd never been stumped on a magical issue like the question of how to revive her body before, but then again perhaps he'd lost his touch. It had been an indeterminate amount of time since he'd last used and studied magical properties, after all.

The years of confusion and self-hatred had eaten at him until the decisions he made weren't really his own, sudden flashes of inspiration proving to be a regrettable impetus after the damage was done and his conscience was in shambles. There was one thing he could see through the smoke, however. One goal, and that was to have Mavis. The only one who understood and loved him, who'd shared the same trials as he had. He would do whatever was necessary.

_'...I'll give it to you upon arrival then,'_ the subject of his thoughts was saying, sounding a bit relieved. 'And you'll test out my theory. It may be our only hope.'

"I assume it's compatible with Black magic?" Zeref asked, and her head cocked curiously.

_'You use that type outside of Ankhseram's curse?'_

"Yes," he answered, quietly. She wouldn't judge. "It's quite useful, and I've had a proclivity towards it since the early days of my youth."

_'I'm surprised I never asked you about it before,'_ Mavis said, sounding a bit puzzled as she remembered the days when he had been her teacher._ 'It makes sense, somehow.'_

She was sitting on the ground with her feet in front of her, the way she usually sat, a no-nonsense look on her face. Zeref reached for her hand and gently brushed it; though it was immaterial, he could feel a bit of warmth from her ethereal body. She looked up at him then, her expression softening as her cheeks stayed the same pale color. He knew she'd be blushing now, if she allowed it to show on her Projection. "Don't hide it," he said, his voice almost a whisper.

Leaning forward, he closed his eyes and kissed the place her forehead would've been, savoring the warmth against his lips. When he opened them to gauge her reaction, he blinked in suprise—Mavis had lifted her face a few inches higher, and it was her lips he'd kissed. He could see that blush now, a warm glow of red spreading over her face as she held contact with his eyes for a few seconds, then glanced away shyly.

That night as Zeref held her physical body close, he sent a silent prayer to the gods above that Mavis's theory would work.

They were running out of time.

_**A/N:** Zeref losing his regard for human life out of love for humanity is a sad contradiction, for the conclusion negates the motive. I always felt sorry for him, God only knows what goes on inside his tortured head. The reason Mavis wasn't thinking quite so contradictorily as Zeref before she fell into a coma can be explained by the amount of time she had the curse, I think. The longer one has it, the more it corrodes their sanity. And of course, now that her consciousness has been separated from her body the curse's effects are broken, except for immortality._

_Thank you for the reviews! I read and appreciate all of them, of course._


	10. Chapter 10: The End Justifies The Means

"Mavis, what are you doing over there?" Zeref asked quietly, coming to stand alongside her as she looked over the edge of the cliff. Moonlight bathed the valley below them in a silvery glow, and treetops were as visible as the low-hanging constellations dotting the black sky. The weather was fair, save for a few clouds in the east which threatened to develop into a summer thunderstorm. Falling silent as he beheld the beautiful view, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath of humid air.

Fatigue had carved dark circles into the skin beneath his eyes, and his mouth was set in a straight line. He'd had plenty of opportunity to sleep, but his anxiety would often cruelly keep him awake until the early morning hours. He could tell Mavis was worried for him and disliked disturbing her peace of mind, but until he was certain that both she and their baby were safe, he knew he wouldn't be able to rest peacefully.

_'It's beautiful,'_ Mavis thought to him, referring to the quiet land stretching out before them as far as the eye could see. _'We spend most of our time focused on other things, but it's important to enjoy the simplicities this life has to offer, isn't it?'_

"I agree."

Turning to face him, she smiled warmly, tilting her head in that way she had. _'As long as we're together, nothing can really stand in our way. For this reason, I'm positive our plan will succeed.'_

Reaching for her immaterial hand, Zeref put his own through it and stood silently beside her. It was early in the month of July, and they were approximately five weeks' travel from Yashinoki. He knew they would make it on time, but it was what came next that was highly combustible fuel on the fire of his anxiety. There wasn't enough time to reach Alakitasia via boat, and not even he could expend enough magic power at once to teleport across an entire ocean. Intercontinental teleportation wasn't on the table; at least not in his present state. His auxiliary plan had been contingent on sailing there halfway and teleporting the rest of the distance, if worst came to worst. But if by some chance he couldn't reach Vistarion in time and he was all Mavis had...

Thoughts racing almost faster than he could process and certainly faster than he could align to make any sense, Zeref sighed heavily in frustration. He disdained weakness, in himself far more than in others. Yet in this scenario, he was forced to realize just how helpless he really was against the calloused hand of fate. Still he rejected it, had denied and rejected the inevitable every step of the way.

All of a sudden he longed to unburden himself to the girl standing by his side. For the last seven months she had been there for him, as much as she was able. They had cried together, laughed together, slept together, and she meant more to him than he'd previously thought anything or anyone could—which was precisely why the last thing he wanted to do was worry her further with his fears. He was sure she already had her own to contend with. But there was another matter on his mind, one that had to do with the potential of his curse—or more specifically, Mavis's possible death by his hand once she bore the child she carried.

Eventually, they would be forced to face this problem. If not in the next two months should Zeref fail to get her to Vistarion and the safety of his palace on time, then inevitably further down the road, unless they were to isolate themselves from one other permanently. And there was a decent certainty that they wouldn't. _What then?_ he wondered. _Is it possible to control my emotions regarding Mavis? Perhaps so, but I cannot imagine wielding that ability at the moment, nor am I willing to bet her life on it. But regardless...should I not at least try?_

Because he loved her, he wished to spare her life, but in order to do so, he must cease to love her. The paradox, one of a thousand he had confronted in his lifetime, mocked him from behind the cracked door of calamity. No matter how far he progressed in his journey, he still came face to face with the same repetitive old problems.

Before he could spiral into another cycle of contradictory thinking, Zeref snapped himself back to the present. "You need to rest," he told Mavis neutrally, and led her away from the cliff. He hadn't noticed her distraught face as she watched him think, nor the expression steeling into her eyes as she witnessed the resolve flashing across his own.

Walking back to the place he'd laid her physical body on the hard ground, Zeref ignored the distant rumbling of thunder and stared at her quietly. His eyes drifted from her golden head, white in the pale moonlight, to her swelling breasts and the outline of her thighs through the fabric of his toga, then his gaze lingered on her stomach. It seemed to grow larger every day, their baby refusing to waste any time filling up the remaining space inside his mother's uterus. She was beautiful, he thought sadly, and his throat ached.

Feeling protectiveness mingle with love inside his chest, Zeref tamped down his emotions and knelt to lay beside her. Curling around her body as though he could save her from catastrophe by being a human shield, he allowed himself the satisfaction of firmly stroking his right hand over the taut surface of her protruding belly, his mouth quirking as he felt his son give an answering kick. No matter how dark Zeref's mood, feeling the babe's response to his presence never failed to lift his spirits at least a marginal amount. Resting his cheek over Mavis's by habit and loving the warmth and softness of her skin against his, he ignored the warning the rational side of his brain sent him. This intimacy with his family was one privilege he would allow himself.

At dawn the next day the couple was up and about early, like every other morning that month. However, Mavis sensed that something in the atmosphere between them was different. It began with Zeref's uncharacteristic coolness towards her regarding a trivial matter. Namely, her opinion that they should hire a person with the proper skillset from the portside town they were approaching to accompany them and captain the ship on their journey across the sea, and his insistence on shouldering the task alone. Mavis was by no means unfamiliar with Zeref's stubborn streak, but even so she was concerned.

_'Zeref, I'm merely trying to spare you the stress of doing it by yourself. It really wouldn't seem suspicious if you were to hide my body in some luggage and promise the man pay upon completion of his task.'_

"Did you hear my answer the first time, or should I repeat it?" he asked, his air of aloofness that morning making the sarcasm sting more than it would have.

_'Nevermind. I'm sorry to have bothered you,'_ she backed off quietly, careful to keep her tone mild. But inwardly, Mavis was stumped. She understood that Zeref was worried, and she also understood why he would be on edge. _But why won't he talk to me?_ she wondered dismally. This was more complex than mere stress.

Watching his blank face as he carried her, she ventured, _'Is there something on your mind?'_

Looking up quickly, he shook his head in a tired gesture. "No, Mavis. Though I appreciate your concern."

_'Whatever is troubling you, I hope you know that you always have someone who loves you. Someone you can talk to...about anything.'_

His face softened. "Thank you," he said, sincerely. "You have the same in me."

Continuing to look at him long after he'd focused on the land ahead once more, Mavis couldn't shake the feeling that something had changed. She only hoped she could keep the darkness from taking over her beloved, wishing he would truly understand that he didn't need to go through his troubles alone. She was right by his side and didn't plan on budging, no matter the cost.

...

A few weeks after the night Zeref had hardened his resolve on the starry cliff, he was carrying Mavis's heavily pregnant body pensively when she burst into his thoughts._ 'Surprise! Guess what today is?'_

Turning to look at her Projection, Zeref stumbled and would've dropped her body had it not been for the makeshift harness supporting it. Outfitted in a sleek, tightly fitting and very revealing bunny costume, Mavis was laughing at his expression playfully.

_'My my, you look all flustered! I'm actually wearing this outfit in honor of our eleventh anniversary. Today is August 16th, the day we met.'_

Trying to regain his composure, Zeref briefly remembered her reaction upon seeing him for the first time, naked in a lake, then made the mistake of looking her up and down again. He wondered how it was possible to be so amused and aroused at the same time. Trying not to grin like an idiot and failing utterly, he echoed, "Our eleventh anniversary?"

_'That's right!'_ she giggled.

"I had forgotten the exact date," he said, somewhat apologetically.

_'It's alright,'_ she replied smugly. _'Not everyone has as good a memory as me, of course.'_

"Remind me to pay you back for that later," Zeref smiled. They walked together a few paces, the moment lingering between them, before his shoulders sagged and he chastised himself for his failure to put the necessary distance between himself and his sweet Mavis. It was far more difficult even than he'd expected it to be. But he had to succeed. It was a matter of life and death. In this case the end certainly justified the means, however difficult or painful they may be.

Sweat dripped from Zeref's brow as a result of an unusually high temperature, the light breeze doing little to relieve the heat. He preferred cooler weather, which was a trademark of the north even in the summertime, but at least Mavis seemed to be enjoying herself. She had a remarkable ability to stay cheerful under duress, though she was entirely capable of gravity should the moment require it. Both were qualities he found desirable. Feeling a pang in his heart, he looked away from her Projection silently.

...

"We're drawing nigh to the village. We should reach it by nightfall tomorrow," Zeref informed Mavis later that day as he soaked in the edge of a lake. The bath was long overdue, and he closed his eyes to the sensation of cool water permeating his skin. The sun slanted through a canopy of green leaves, doppling the water with a million sparkling diamonds in some areas. Having chosen a shady spot for some relief from the heat, he half-floated, half-stood with his arms beneath her ribcage as he held her afloat, her head resting on his shoulder. Her yellow hair formed a flowing curtain of silk around his legs, separating their naked bodies mercifully. Mavis watched him from the nearby shore, sitting in a sunlit spot with her legs tucked underneath her body Indian-style.

_'Excellent. Then we only need to formulate a plan to safely steal—er, borrow-'_

"You had it right the first time," Zeref interjected smoothly, lips curving in a sardonic smile. "Call a spade a spade, Mavis."

Unsettled, she looked down at the clasped hands in her lap._ 'We'll ensure the ship is safely returned to its proper owner,' she insisted. 'You know that's the right thing to do.'_

"Very well, if the matter means so much to you. I find it rather insignificant." Standing suddenly, he slid his arm beneath her dripping knees and waded from the lake while Mavis watched him pensively. Important thoughts slipped her mind when she saw the size of her stomach in the sun, as Zeref laid her body on the grassy bank carefully. Per usual, he averted his gaze from her naked form as he refastened the toga, a ritual she had grown accustomed to observing.

Noting that her breasts were almost as large as she'd wished for them to be during the past decade, she thought wistfully of how edifying it would be to experience her pregnancy physically. Not to mention all the fun things she could be doing with Zeref to celebrate their anniversary. She bet she could relieve his stress and extract some answers both in one go, if only she had her real body. With a ghost of a sigh, she rose from her position on the bank of the lake and went to join him.

He was more stoic and quiet than usual these days, and she couldn't seem to reach him at whatever remote realm he had retreated to. The thought depressed her, reminding her of the times when elusive silver minnows would slip through her fingers as a small child. Just as she'd begun to think to herself happily that she'd caught one, it would escape back into the wild of its natural habitat, leaving her with empty hands and a feeling of failure.

Shuddering, Mavis shook her head. She couldn't allow Zeref to slip away from her, but she had an eerie suspicion he was losing the only light he'd known. _Stop being so dramatic,_ she told herself ruefully. _He's under a lot of stress and it would be unnatural if he didn't act withdrawn at times._ But she still couldn't shake the pervasive sense of doom hanging over their heads. Anxiety making her feel restless, she decided to look to the future and put her faith in the one she loved. Now was as good a time as any.

_'Zeref?'_ she asked directly.

Pulling his black tunic over his head and letting it fall into place, he turned to face her as he accurately interpreted her tone. Looking into his opaque black eyes determinedly, Mavis said, _'I think now is the time for you to receive Fairy Glitter.'_

Eyes widening almost imperceptibly, Zeref recovered and nodded once. Walking over to him until they were standing face-to-face—or rather, face-to-chest—Mavis looked up at him gravely. _'Before we begin, I'd like you to promise me something.'_

"Yes?" he responded, searching the bright green depths of her eyes as she spoke.

_'This spell contains the essence of my dream, and in effect the essence of my guild. It must only be used to further the pursuit of what I believe to be the things of utmost importance in life; namely, of both friendship and the essence of all magic...love.'_

Understanding, he nodded seriously.

_'Feelings are what fuel our magic power. And in the case of casting Fairy Glitter, they must be pure.'_

"You've remembered my lessons well, I see," Zeref said with an ironic smile.

_'Of course. They were what fanned the flames of my interest in magic into a roaring inferno. If not for you, I wouldn't have been able to do a great deal of things.'_

_And you never would have been cursed, either,_ Zeref silently added to himself. He looked away abruptly, but Mavis laid her illusory hand on his cheek, willing him to turn his face back to hers. After a moment he did so, but his gaze was shuttered as he felt the gentle warmth of the intangible presence. Troubled at the unpleasant memories that teaching her must have uncovered in his mind, she swallowed her soothing words—which she had a feeling he would be unreceptive to—and instead delved back into the topic at hand.

Letting her projected hand fall from his downcast face, she stepped back. Closing her eyes and starting to focus her magic power, she felt it gathering around her fist as her reserve began draining. She couldn't keep this expenditure up for very long, and hoped to heaven the transfer would work the first time she attempted it.

Zeref watched in interest and growing concern for Mavis as a spark of light similar to a golden flame grew in her hand, increasing in size as she concentrated. Feeling her magic power levels spike dramatically, he fought the urge to demand she stop immediately. This was their chance, he thought desperately.

_'Give me your hand,'_ her clear, sweet voice ordered. Fighting an impulse to cover his face against the searingly bright light, he stretched his right arm out to her. She took his hand without hesitation, and suddenly Zeref felt an insane amount of energy course through him at all at once. If there were any way to describe the sensation, he would liken it to attempting to hold on to a reverberating magical core despite the unbearable shivers running up his arm that were neither ticklish nor painful. Crying out at the overwhelming intensity of the feeling, he grit his teeth and grimaced as pure, raw power surged through his body and blew his hair from his face. The light was blinding now, forcing him to shut his eyes. Though he couldn't see Mavis, he heard her voice within his head.

_'I give you Fairy Glitter. May it forever shine in the darkness.'_

Concentrating all her power on Zeref, Mavis whimpered as she felt what seemed to be the essence of her spirit leaving her. _No matter how much magic this takes, I'm prepared to part with it, _she thought grimly. Picturing the spell she wanted to give him, she channeled it into his arm quite adeptly for her first time bestowing another with one of her spells. Although she'd written the ability to be transferable into Fairy Glitter, she'd yet to gift it to any of her guildmates; the situation had never been dire enough to call for its use.

Just as Zeref was about to yell that giving him the spell was pointless if her projection was destroyed by expending every ounce of magic energy she possessed on him, the waves of power pulsating from her slowed almost as quickly as they'd begun. The light died more gradually, and he opened his eyes, panting as he tried in vain to catch his breath. The sun still slanted lazily through the trees, and a light breeze rippled the surface of the lake.

The awed stillness around them was punctuated only by Zeref's breathing. Looking down at his shaking hand, he saw a peculiar—yet somehow familiar—black tattoo covering his right forearm. Blinking in recognization, he remembered where he'd seen that symbol. On Mavis's body, the first time he had bathed her. Only hers was light yellow, and this was a slightly different shape: elongated, with stripes along either side tapering down to a point on the back of his wrist.

Glancing up from his arm, he watched in terror as Mavis faded slowly, static taking her place before the last trace vanished. _'Don't worry,'_ she whispered. _'I'll be back...so glad it worked.'_

Standing in a numb trance, Zeref stared at the place her Projection had been. Time was lost to him as the yellow grasses waved in a warm breeze. He certainly felt the spell's power enhancing his own capabilities, and undefined memories surfaced at the fluctuation, the spell's incantation lingering in the deepest recesses of his consciousness. Shaking his head to clear it of the useless fog, he turned to all that visually remained of Mavis. Her body, lying on the grass at his feet. _Quite a small person to generate such strength,_ he thought with a familiar flicker of somber pride, impressed with her power and courage. It was part of what had drawn him to her from the start.

"I know you're near, Mavis," he whispered to her unseen presence. "Thank you." It was time to push on to the next task: infiltrating the town without drawing attention to himself and securing safe passage to his empire. Mind set on the goal, Zeref couldn't help but feel a wave of fatigue at the drudgery of never-ending worry and emotional expenditure. Everything they accomplished only seemed to lead to the next tiring step. It was quite a change from his depressed apathy of several decades ago.

At first he'd had his deep love for Mavis to refresh himself with, but due to their current circumstances even that must be restricted. Zeref only wished for it to be over, to lay his head on her lap and finally rest in the knowledge that she was safe and happy, their son as well. Sucking in a breath as useless tears threatened to fill his burning eyes, he turned to a vision of his family that often brought him solace; the three of them, sitting in a shady field with the outline of Vistarion in the distance, basking in the comfort of each other's presence and love. Their golden-haired son laughing in the breeze, and Mavis looking after him with pride and tender care.

The vision faded into the humid air, and Zeref looked down at his clenched fist, his eyes following the dark markings winding their way along his forearm. They represented all that Mavis stood for, and she had trusted him with such power. Not that he couldn't wreak havoc without it, if he were inclined to do so, but his heart was warmed by the strength of her faith in him. Steeling his resolve, he shut her from his mind and turned to her body purposefully, preparing to infiltrate the village.

...

The next day as dusk slowly stole over the land, Zeref parted a cluster of bushes by the side of a road to ensure the path was clear. From what he understood, it was a detour that led to the small town. The air was pleasantly balmy, temperature lowering as the sun prepared to sink, and here and there a palm tree flourished in the somewhat rocky soil. From afar, the distant roar of waves crashing on the shore teased his ears.

Oblivious for once to the beauty of the land, Zeref rubbed his eyes and turned from the sight. He hadn't slept since Mavis's departure, since her urging was the biggest reason he'd occasionally rested in the first place. It was easy to imagine her big green eyes watching him reproachfully, but the mental image wasn't enough to slow his pace. He could still sense her presence, and for that he was grateful. Avoiding the road and skirting through the foliage towards the sound of the sea, he made his way through the tangled trees.

Mavis's magic power had replenished enough for her to communicate with him telepathically, but Zeref had advised her against it until she was back to her former level. Instead of conversing with her, he'd used the previous night to formulate a plan. Under the cover of nightfall, as the sunset's colorful rays of light faded from the western sky across the vast blue ocean, he swallowed against the ache in his throat as he remembered all the evenings he'd watched similar beauty with Mavis.

Climbing over the sand dunes to reach the moist shore, he walked steadily over the compacted wet earth; it was less difficult than plodding in the loose sand further from the lapping water. Breathing the ocean air into his lungs freely, Zeref looked up at the stars as they made their appearance in the night sky. There was a new moon tonight, so the only light to illumine his path was provided by the ancient compasses twinkling above. Perfect.

The shoreline side of the seaside town of Yashinoki Village was starting to settle, save for the crowded and noisy saloon, and the laughter of an amply numerous amount of people almost gave Zeref pause. It'd been a while since he had been in the midst of civilians. Walking underneath the cheerfully lit windows of the townhouses, he hefted a large brown carpetbag in his hand. He'd cast a basic enchantment spell over the handle, one he'd learned at the Academy, rendering it unbreachable to anyone but him. He'd had to break his commitment to never use magic to do so, but such a vow was vastly insignificant in the face of what he was fighting for. A future.

Inside the heavily woven fabric of the luggage bag he'd purloined—or borrowed, as Mavis would say—was his most valued possession. Even encumbered with his baby, Mavis's weight barely stressed the strength of one arm, and most people didn't glance twice in his direction. He was slightly surprised, for he'd braced for attention due to the strip of cloth binding his right forearm. Apparently the people in this city were the _don't-ask-don't-tell_ type, which made him feel more in his element. A stroke of luck at last.

Zeref wasn't worried about harming anyone on the street, for his death magic hadn't surfaced for weeks now. And if his curse hadn't attempted to take Mavis's life, the common riff-raff around him would definitely remain unharmed, he was sure. Not that he particularly cared in his present state of mind, but Mavis would. Seeing a drunk swerving towards him on the boardwalk, he shouldered past her disdainfully, set on reaching the dock.

Ducking into a narrow alleyway to avoid the townspeople, he continued unwaveringly, intent on reaching his destination. Ignoring the putrid stench of garbage in his nostrils and looking up from the concrete to ascertain the length of the dim alley, Zeref felt his sixth sense prickle in warning. Stopping in his tracks, he turned to look behind him and encountered a figure looming in the darkness.

"Whatcha got in that bag?" a roughly accented voice asked in a tone as casual as one might ask about the weather.

"Did I say it concerns you?" Zeref replied calmly. He could sense no magic energy from the thug, but that didn't mean he wasn't harboring magical weapons.

Sighing tiredly, Zeref set Mavis behind him and spoke brusquely. "Pay heed to my words, for I won't utter them twice. I'll give you a chance to depart peacefully, or you can suffer the consequences. It makes no difference to me, except that I would presently prefer not to waste time on nonentities." It was a longer string of words than he'd uttered in weeks.

As he spoke, his magical aura strengthened, invisible dark energy swirling around his body and lifting his hair with unseen strength. It was a fraction of the power he possessed, but he didn't expect the fool to sense it anyway.

"Very intimidating. Prepare to get owned, kid!" Throwing his cloak to the side and unsheathing a flaming magical sword, the man swung it towards Zeref's neck smoothly, clearly expected him to duck and follow up with a counter attack. Instead, he simply stood there while his attacker stopped mid-blow. A powerful wave of death magic had surged from Zeref effortlessly at the first sign of a physical threat, draining the life force of any living creature in the immediate vicinity of the dark mage. Gasping for breath, the thief fell to the ground in a spasmodic seizure.

"Worthless scum," Zeref said under his breath, turning to leave. He could have ended the onesided fight just as easily with a few well-placed blows, but he was mentally exhausted and decided to be content with the warning he'd given the man.

_'Zeref?'_ A scaldingly sweet telepathic female voice broke into his thoughts, and he stopped in his tracks as a light sweat broke out on his forehead.

"Uh...yes, Mavis?" he answered innocently.

_'Why did you kill that poor man?!'_

"I didn't kill him," he assured her instantly. Turning back to the thief, he kicked him lightly in the side. Groaning, the prone man coughed weakly. "See? Still breathing." He couldn't resist adding "Unfortunately," under his breath.

Intrigued, Mavis forgot her moral qualms for a second to inquire how he'd done it.

"By restricting the amount of magic power that was in that wave."

A passer-by looked down the alley quizzically, sneering as he saw Zeref talking to himself. Probably assuming he was drunk and delirious.

_'You can do that?'_ Mavis asked in amazement.

"Normally, no. But Anksehram seems to have been in a good mood lately. Now it's your turn to answer to me for disobeying my advice to conserve your magic power until you'd fully recovered, dear Mavis."

_'Oh, about that. Just a little while longer and I'll be back to normal, I promise. In the meantime, I have plenty of energy to talk to you.'_

Hesitating, Zeref picked up the carpetbag and resumed walking. "Very well."

Upon arriving at his destination of the city's dock, he saw several large commerce ships docked, along with smaller fishermen's vessels and sailboats. Scanning them thoughtfully, he stopped when he saw the Alvarez crest boldly adorning the flag of a double-masted schooner. Walking towards it confidently, toting his precious luggage in his hand, he ran his prior calculations through his head once more.

Traveling at a rate of four to five knots on an eastbound trip and allowing room for vagaries such as weather and the expertise of the captain, they should traverse a distance of 3,213 nautical miles—the distance between the two continents—in approximately thirty days. After a great deal of deliberation, Zeref had changed his stance on the matter of the captain. On the one hand, such a person would be vulnerable to death should his magic act up, and it would be preferable for them to be closed-lip about the journey, but on the other Zeref was regrettably not assured of his abilities to the extent of betting the health of Mavis and their child on them. He needed the fastest method of transportation available.

Passing the dim light of lanterns in the dark, he headed towards the gangplank of his ship.

"Who goes there?" a bold feminine voice called.

Turning towards where she was peering through the dark, apparently attempting to make out his features, he answered authoritatively, "A traveler. Do you know where I may find the captain of this vessel?"

"You're speaking to her," the woman replied cautiously.

Nodding courteously, Zeref asked, "You're from Alakitasia, are you not?"

Stepping from the shadow of a crate, where she'd been leaning, the captain replied, "Sure am. Our flag is hard to make out in the dark, but it bears the crest of Alvarez." Pride was evident in her voice.

Smiling wryly, Zeref inquired, "Would you accept a passenger?"

"Normally, I would, young sir, but I'm here to transport a load of rare goods to a company in my country who placed a special request. A mission, if you will."

Thinking quickly, Zeref made his move. "How much were you offered for this run?"

Apparently she didn't feel threatened by his countenance and soft voice, for the captain answered, "Half a million jewel. Who wishes to know?"

"Your emperor," Zeref said quietly.

Silence descended for a moment, before she burst out, "What trifling joke is this? We were having an adult conversation, then you pull my leg like a child?"

_'The strategic thing to do would be to prove your true identity to her, while drawing as little attention to yourself as possible,'_ Mavis told him quickly.

_'Unfortunately, the odds of not drawing attention to myself went out the window the moment I decided to hire a captain.'_ Sighing, Zeref stepped into the lamplight.

At the sight of his youthful countenance and unmistakable face, known throughout the growing country of Alvarez despite his preference for privacy, the color drained from the woman's face. Shivering in the humid air, she fell to her knees in front of him, bowing her cloaked head to the floor.

"Emperor Spriggan," she said respectfully. "Please, Your Majesty...forgive me. I didn't comprehend who I had the honor of speaking to. Captain Keshra Tilner, humbly at your service."

"You're forgiven," he said calmly. "Prostrating yourself at my feet is hardly necessary. Go ready the ship at once. I want an emergency crossing to my empire—or more specifically, to its capital city."

Rising to her feet quickly, she bowed in acquiescence. "Yes, Your Majesty. I'll ready the crew at once."

Turning to leave, she froze when he addressed her again. "I'll ensure you're repaid in full, Captain Tilner."

"Thank you, Your Majesty," she said in relief.

"And Captain," he added, "I order you to keep our meeting—and my identity—strictly confidential. If your crew asks, don't tell."

Eyes wide, she nodded obediently. "Of course, Your Majesty. Whatever you wish," and sped away to make the proper arrangements.

Turning to the gangplank, Zeref crossed it and boarded the anchored schooner.

_**A/N:** Long time, no see. I apologize. From here on, expect chapters similar to this one in length. I was reluctant to update today due to the certainty that I would read it a day later and see a thousand ways it could've been better, but I'm starting to get over myself. Writing with my favorite characters is therapeutic for me, and I hope it's equally gratifying for you to read._

_Zeref can be either overly empathic or overly apathetic, similar to two sides of the same coin. He's a challenging but fun character to work with, difficult to pinpoint on interlinking complexities but ultimately relatable for some._

_I'd like to thank Epicfani, one of my most appreciated readers, for her bunny suit idea for a Zervis scene. It was fun. ;)_

_Questions? Feel free to ask and I'll do my best to answer promptly. Not to be too forceful, but I just wanted from remind you how much I loooove reviews. Have a lovely day, dear readers ^.^_


	11. Chapter 11: A Chance At Hope

The ship was designed to transport a moderate amount of goods fairly quickly; the sails were tall, the reinforced hull narrow and sleek. According to the captain, it was complete with an adequately furnished cabin in addition to the hold located belowdeck.

"...Which Your Majesty is more than welcome to," Keshra offered her emperor generously. Gathering her small crew of four on short notice, she had foregone explaining the situation to them, despite their burning curiosity, in order to allow Zeref the privacy he had requested. From what he could read in her attitude, she had an uneasy apprehension about the whole affair, but as long as she was paid handsomely the other details of the excursion were apparently irrelevant.

"I appreciate the offer, but no." Zeref had taken the time to explore the vessel in her absence, and had decided to make use of a compartment in the lower quarters of the schooner which was partially occupied with crates of goods her crew was currently unloading at his behest, after having stocked the ship the same day. He was occasionally the recipient of suspicious, even mutinous glances from Tilner's comrades, but she kept them in check with a scathing look or gesture.

The captain stood before him, with facial features so commonplace as to be readily forgettable. An even shade of brown hair was bobbed to mid-back level and fixed in a plain braid. Even her style of dress was bland in the extreme, and for a flicker of a second Zeref wondered if her vague outer appearance was purposefully intended to mislead.

It was her eyes, however, that caught his attention, despite the carefully bland look they held. He would recognize the pain in them if it was veiled with a millenia's worth of enforced indifference or studied stupidity.

"I'll likely utilize the hull of the ship for the duration of the voyage," he informed her, dispelling the distracting observations from his mind with ease and addressing the issue at hand. "When will you give the order to raise the anchor?"

He didn't hear her answer, however, as he suddenly sensed a sharp rise in magic power emanate from the bag he was holding. The fine tremor of energy bore the combined signature he'd come to memorize over the past eight months, lingering just long enough for him identify it and then dwindling back to the proportion it had been a moment ago.

Stunned into silence, he heard Mavis's corresponding voice, _'What was that? My magic energy just spiked and then subsided, for no determinate reason.'_

Turning from the captain with a furrow between his brow, Zeref answered, '_An unstable ethernano core? This doesn't bode well. It's an indication of magic deficiency syndrome, as well as Take Over spells and emotional imbalance.'_

Keshra was watching him alertly, but Zeref was oblivious to her change in expression and instead tightened his hold on the satchel in his hand.

_'I'm alright,'_ Mavis said quickly, but he caught the strained note in her voice. _'So is the baby, as far as I can sense. Stability has restored and nothing seems to have changed. We'll think about this later.'_

"Are you alright, Your Majesty?"

Tilner's voice brought him back to the situation at hand, and he nodded impassively.

...

_Ashes floated from the scorching crimson sky as a mother ran through the wreckage of what used to be a busy street. Thick smoke cloyed her lungs, burning her eyes, and she clawed at them furiously to eradicate the haze of reflexive tears obstructing her vision._

_She had to search for him._

_Her son needed her, and she was helpless to save him. His screams reached her ears—imaginary or literal, she didn't know—and a sob wrenched its way from her throat._

_"Wait! I'm coming!"_

_She couldn't find their home, one pile of rubble virtually indistinguishable from the next. Her side throbbed, blistered feet breaking open on the endless shards of debris beneath them, but still she wouldn't stop._

_She would_ not_ fail._

_When she reached her destination, nothing would prepare her for the sight that reached her eyes._

...

Mavis stood on the sunny deck of the ship, the day after its departure from Yashinoki Village. Floating about on the conditional wings of gravity's absence, she took in the broad blue sky and rippling waves reflecting the near-blinding light of the sun. Zeref had decided to stay belowdeck, but she had been so eager to see the endless azure sea that she'd left him alone with a promise to be back soon.

The excitement she'd expected to feel at the sights around her was absent, however, and it was with a sigh that she conceded the pleasures of a place couldn't bring back the innocent feeling one associated with them. The first time she had ever been aboard a ship, over a decade ago, surfaced in her mind.

How young she had been then; how carefree. She remembered Yuri's annoyance at her insistent advice on sailing, Warrod's more tolerant answers when she pelted him with questions, Precht's aloof terseness that she had since discovered was a typical barrier he displayed to those who didn't know him well. As she did whenever she was barraged with memories of her friends, Mavis was forced to relive the events leading to her exile.

It was always bittersweet, thoughts of those she loved, nostalgia blending with aching regret. Closing her eyes to the sight of the rippling blue water, she tilted her head back, wishing she could feel the breeze on her face and smell the salty, humid air. Hearing a sailor approach the main mast, she started, before realizing he could neither see nor be harmed by her. Nonetheless, she turned to flee the deck with haste.

...

Motion sickness claimed Zeref's attention for the first few days of the voyage, which should have made him glad he hadn't eaten for the last year, but instead the never-ending nausea only served to spark resentment that his curse was keeping it from ending his life already.

Mavis was tempted to be amused the first time she saw him heaving over the rails of the ship, but quickly sobered at his silent misery and instead sought to lift his spirits. Seasickness wasn't the only ailment that plagued him, she knew, but he still wouldn't share his inner thoughts with her. It should have been easy to grow exasperated, but instead she was reminded of her own isolation, and wondered despondently when he would realize that she couldn't help him if he didn't allow her to tend his wounds.

Time lapsed, and instead of worrying over an answer to the dilemma, Mavis fell into the ritual of dozing, thinking, and dozing again in a rhythm bound to the repetitious swaying of the ship.

An interminable length of time later, Zeref shifted, unable to find a comfortable position. Only it wasn't his body that stirred, but his mind. He felt a general sense of restless unease, enacted by his unavoidable proximity to the souls on the ship where he currently resided. None of them were wizards, he was certain, or he would have easily felt their signature when he'd stealthily probed earlier that day.

No, it was an uneasiness with no apparent explanation; almost as though there was something he'd overlooked. But over the centuries, he had learned to discard blind trust of his own intuition. Impulses and warnings were not as he felt they were. Fickle emotions weren't to be trusted—but if that was so, what was he doing? Wasn't this entire expedition entirely founded upon emotions? No, a small part of his rationality objected. There were more important reasons than that, if only he could summon them to his mind for proper processing...

"Mavis," he said aloud, his voice echoing through the dark, musty chamber. The slow creaking of ancient wood punctuated the word. He wasn't certain why he'd spoken. It wasn't love that threaded through his tone, nor curiosity, nor even loneliness. Perhaps it was the need for a light to clear the haze of darkness settling in the degenerative cogs of his heart. Her name on his lips was thoughtless, impulsive.

_'Yes?'_ she answered hesitantly.

"Are you well?"

_'Of course.'_ Her tone was gentler this time, and the pervasive darkness receded an infinitesimal amount as her Projection came to life, allowing his mind to take in the sight no stranger would have been able to perceive.

He had rejected the offer of a light lacrima, and the space around him was as chilled and black as a starless night. At Mavis's appearance, the shadows were chased back into the corners where he should've felt they belonged, and she knelt before him. He didn't miss the grim expression in her eyes, though she offered him a small smile.

Her Projection was the form of what her physical body would've been, sans pregnancy, and facial expressions had become second nature to her. Conscious effort was required to alter what came naturally, instead of effort being expended to create it.

Knowing this, Zeref wasn't fooled by her attempt at lightheartedness. Although he knew he was treading on dangerous waters, subject to be pulled below by the inevitable undertow at any moment, he hoped she felt there was sufficient intimacy between them to confide in him. At the same time, he was repulsed by the idea, and he shut his eyes as he felt his control waver. The curse was rearing its hideous head once more, but only if he allowed it an opportunity.

"Nevermind," he said tersely, drawing a lungful of damp air that did little to grant him clarity. He had removed her body from its confines of the carpetbag and set it on the floor several feet from his own, but that didn't prevent him from instinctively shuffling further away from it. Suddenly, nowhere on the continent seemed distant enough to separate them as remotely as he desired.

Watching Zeref, Mavis understood in a flash of recognition. He craved distance as much as he did company, enhanced by his will to save her life. His love for her was entangling him in a web of confusion, motives and methods and results all striving to contradict each other in a race against logic. She felt grateful for her extended reprieve from that corrosive line of thought, only to be flooded with guilt moments later.

Centuries...centuries he had borne this curse. What was a solitary year in comparison to thirty decades of agony? And only minutes ago she had been battling the astringent memories that being amongst innocent people had brought forth. It was as though her bubble of cheerful oblivion, forged during her long months of reprieve with Zeref, had been burst by the cold needle of the threat they faced together. _How much more so are his worries, in comparison to mine?_

Thoughts of Rita flooded her head, before she could freeze the onslaught. Of the dead bodies littering the field, the week she ran from her home. They were so still, lifeless, faces contorted with their dying thoughts and limbs lying where they happened to fall. She hadn't so much as turned back, then. The realization of how many souls she must have drained that day, and her own response to it, brought another flicker of understanding in regards to the man before her.

When one was fated to forever link compassion with pain, apathy was salvation.

Suddenly drained, an ethereal tear slid from her eye as she forced her Projection to fade.

...

Keshra stood at the helm of the schooner, gazing out into the endless turquoise sea. The churning waters directly below were teal, but they darkened in color proportionate to distance. She closed her eyes, failing to appreciate the balmy breeze and fair weather that would carry them to Alakitasia in three weeks' time. Instead, her face was a mask carved of granite as she stood motionlessly, memories lingering at the forefront of her consciousness with worse festering beneath them.

"Cap'n," a gruff voice broke into her solitude. She started, before turning to address the sailor, a mirthless smile curving her lips.

If it failed to reach her eyes, he either didn't acknowledge or failed to notice it, and promptly delivered his report of the weather instead.

After she had duly nodded and gave her dismissal, she expected him to return to his post. However, the man looked down in an uncharacteristically sheepish gesture.

Slightly annoyed, she addressed him, "Is something the matter?"

"It's Tanner, Cap'n. He's ill. Nothin' serious, but he got into some skirmish with a wizard. He's runnin' a fever and I'd expect it'll take a day or two before he can pick up his work again."

At this news, her features softened imperceptibly. "Allow him to rest in the cabin. He can use a better cot than you usually do, and until he recovers I'll lend a hand to whatever slack his absence creates."

Relief caused the sailor's shoulders to slump slightly, and he nodded brusquely.

"You're a kind soul, Cap'n," he dared, before turning to take a hasty leave.

Tilner silently turned back to her vacant perusal of the ocean.

...

The days passed without a marker for Zeref, one blurring into another as he stayed in the dark prison—of the hull, and of his own thoughts. Hunger gnawed at his stomach in the form of a dull ache, and he felt he should be surprised by it after months of ignoring his body, but it didn't occur to him to care.

During the long hours spent waiting, he purposefully exiled himself from Mavis's company, working on meditation to enhance his capacity for magical agility and stamina instead of spending the long hours speaking with her. Sleep avoided him for the most part, for which he was at turns both grateful and annoyed. Drifting into the hazy world between reality and reverie, not quite sleeping nor fully awake, he couldn't avoid Mavis any more than he could hate her.

Reaching for her face, he slid his fingers through the locks of her hair, searching her eyes desperately for the evangelical goodness he had always associated with her.

It wasn't there. All he found was cold terror, resentment...and finally, worst of all, dull resignation. He had doomed her to live out a fate similar to his, had been _pleased_ about it, and in the end all it wrought was one more life destroyed. The acceptance he hungered for was lost in the weathering mist of eternity.

Waking with a start, unaware he'd fallen asleep, Zeref identified the reason for the interruption in his slumber as the door shook again, rattled by the firm tapping of someone's knuckles. Mavis was staring at the wooden door, her Projection illuminating the room enough to make out its shape. Senses prickling in unease, he automatically reached out to find the wizard on the other side of the door—not a wizard, he corrected himself. There was no aura to disturb the air surrounding him.

Detached from the world around him as the memory of his unsettling dream refused to fade, Zeref was about to order the person to enter when he remembered the body lying beside him. Mavis's ethereal form wouldn't be an issue, but exposing a seemingly lifeless and obviously pregnant corpse to whomever was there to observe the phenomenon was not an intelligent notion.

Acting on impulse even as he reasoned there was rarely an instance he didn't come to regret his actions when they were carried out with no regard to caution, Zeref summoned the energy pulsing beneath his exterior and teleported to the other side of the door in a flicker of power. The dizzyingly familiar sensation of losing perception of the world around him lasted a fraction of a second, before the space in the hall outside the room came into focus again, crowded by a stack of empty wooden cases.

Before the figure before him could react, Zeref laid a hand on her shoulder. Keshra had froze the moment he appeared beside her, but as he turned her around she allowed herself to be moved fluidly. In one hand was a light lacrima, in another was a covered basket.

The light dispelled the shadows between them, and Keshra raised her eyebrows in response to the pressure of the light hand on her shoulder, refusing to obey the impulse screaming for her to shrug it off. There was no immediate reason for her to feel threatened—his face was bland, his stance neutral, but for a second she thought she could detect a flicker of something sinister in his cavernous eyes.

Holding up the basket, she met his blank gaze squarely and answered before he could ask.

"I thought Your Majesty might be hungry."

Hefting the basket, she handed it to him. He didn't take it, but he did drop his hand from her shoulder. She silently sighed in relief.

"Do not ever come here again," Zeref said with quiet gravity.

She nodded once, with a look he couldn't decipher, and leaned to set the basket on the floor. A moment later, she was ascending the narrow stairway to exit the hold, footsteps resounding in the silence.

Staring at the place she had been, Zeref's brow furrowed. He picked up the basket, ascertaining that food was indeed all it held. Returning to Mavis, whom he assumed had eavesdropped on the short exchange, he sat down cross-legged beside her and calmly picked up an apple.

_'Zeref,'_ she reluctantly interrupted before he could take the first bite._ 'I didn't hear her footsteps.'_

"Before she arrived?"

_'While you were asleep. I assumed it was because my hearing wasn't sensitive enough to pick up on the sound of steps from beyond the door, but then when she left I clearly heard her boots on the stairs.'_

Zeref processed the information, matching it with what he had gleaned already.

"Teleportation magic being employed by her is unlikely. If she had such a power, it would take an inordinate amount of magical stamina to hide her aura from us for such a length of time. A technique similar to my own, for as you've probably noticed I've employed the same method the entirety of our voyage. Add to that the chances that she would sacrifice her cover under my nose when my reputation is the furthest from savory in Ishgar—which she should know if she intends to stalk me—and she had deceived me for such a length of time, and a phenomenon such as hers is unlikely to occur."

Biting into the apple because there was no reason not to, Zeref fell silent. But he could practically feel the wheels of Mavis's brain turning, and knew she wasn't at ease with his explanation. It was no matter. Unfortunately, there was nothing Tilner could do to end their suffering even if she was disposed to try, and that threat was all she could offer them. However, her eyes and the message he'd read there continued to weigh on his mind.

Stilling as he felt a pointed fluctuation in the magical atmosphere around him, one that had grown familiar over the duration of their voyage, he glanced at Mavis's body. These sudden variations of energy had been exponentially increasing lately, and he had a creeping suspicion as to what they were. He had yet to voice it aloud, for he didn't wish to worry her further, but he knew the grains of time were growing dangerously scarce in the hourglass of opportunity.

He felt none of the urgency that he had before, however. Merely a superficially calm blanket, smothering the dying love and dangerous hope beneath with incurious lethargy. Apathy was a balm to his tired soul, whereas hope...

Hope was the one thing he knew he couldn't afford to harbor, the most painful emotion he could feel in his current state. Yet here he was, racing to grasp what had always slipped through his fingers with fateful evasiveness. Feeling an inexplicable urge to laugh, Zeref suppressed the impulse with horror. Hatred bubbled within for the heartless creature he had become, but even in the darkest recesses of his being he also felt something stronger, a stable anchor that refused to budge as all other lights went out.

It was not an emotion, or he would've been suspicious of it. Rather, it was a calm conviction buried beneath calloused layers of torment and enforced indifference. It was this tenuous 'hope' that he so despised, and yet yearned for, which prevented him from conceding defeat. The path ahead would be cruelly torturous as long as he fought, but he would have the impetus to do so with the flickering—but never dying—embers of illogical, impossible faith.

Suddenly feeling a pressing need for air not tainted with the scent of decaying wood, he stood, walking towards the door as a spark sprung into a vibrant flame in his hand, brightening the room with radiant titian light. Mavis watched him go, foregoing the unnecessary warning poised on the tip of her tongue. She knew he would accidentally harm no one, and it was this certainty which brought her more apprehension than if she had been afraid of the opposite.

Sitting in the dark, she was overwhelmed by a sense of desolation, like a wound that had been suppressed for weeks but was finally exposed to the elements as the thin scab of her determined stoicism was ripped open. Zeref was no longer by her side, and the crushing suffocation squeezing her heart refused to abate no matter what false nonsense she repeated to herself.

Knowing he wished to be alone, and against her better instincts, she floated to her feet and went after him, passing through the closed door in the process.

The weather was clear and it was mercifully nighttime, moonlight highlighting the roughly hewn boards comprising the deck. Unable to locate Zeref from his magical aura, she scanned one side of the ship, before finding him standing at the far edge.

He stared at the churning water, back stiff as he doubtless sensed her approach but made no move to acknowledge it. Hesitation vanishing at the sight of how utterly isolated he appeared, Mavis quickly walking up to him and wrapped her arms around his back in silent solidarity. He tensed, feeling her warmth but not her flesh, and she refused his wordless request for solitude and tightened her grip instead.

Zeref was drowning, yet intent on pushing away the only life preserver thrown to him. He was doing it for her, out of fear that latching on to the raft would topple her over into the same violent waters he was struggling to stay afloat on. Then and there, Mavis shut her eyes and fervently made a promise to him, though she didn't speak it aloud.

_I vow that I will always give you the love you need, whether you accept it or not. I will not let you succumb to the undertow. Not for my sake, and not for your own. As long as I live, you'll never fight your battles alone again._

She heard his breath hitch, and wondered for a moment whether she'd accidentally communicated her thoughts to his. When his shoulders began shaking silently, she knew he'd somehow perceived her promise. Perhaps they were in tune with one another, after all.

Never until this moment did she quite understand what she had agreed to do when she'd assured Zeref she accepted him that faithful day, but now she was starting to gain a grasp of what it meant to do so. His self-hatred could readily have ample justification, if his crimes were half as serious as hers, and she knew in her heart that they were. But unlike the rest of society, she was able to see his intentions. Not merely the ones the curse would generate day by day and year by year, but those beneath its confusing tar. He was pure. Beautiful. Kind. Everything she hypocritically believed she could never be with the blood staining her hands. She longed to tell him so, but knew she was risking enough with her embrace.

Reluctantly, she withdrew, turning away slowly when he didn't face her.

If he had, she would've seen the tears coursing down his face. Rare tears, wrought by a chink in the armor of his safeguard against pain.

Before she'd taken the first step away from him, a sudden remark from Zeref shattered her equilibrium.

"You should have died."

The words were toneless, completely neutral. It was the same careful voice he'd used the day he found her in the forest, alone and vulnerable to the demons consuming her soul. The wind whispered across the waves, rocking the ship gently.

_'I...what?'_

"The day I found you, as if for the first time. My curse should have stolen your life force entirely."

_'You're wrong. Because if that had been my fate, you would've been alone. I was meant to live for you, just as you were meant to find me.'_

"Mavis," he said without inflection. "What if I never loved you from the start? The very essence of my ostensible love was the desire to preserve your life—the acceptance you radiated, your warmth. But in that wish lay my selfishness. If given the choice, I would've denied you every chance of rest, only to suit my own narcissistic need. The very next day, when I assumed you were at peace, my primary goal became to ensure that it wasn't permanent."

Silence reigned in the seconds following the poisonous words, broken only by the rippling of the waves against the ship's outer hull down below.

_'I presume this means you think you know the reason my life wasn't truly ended?'_

At his confirming silence, something inside Mavis snapped. _'You're wrong! Don't you see that to love is to live? Precisely because I loved you, I would never dream of willfully leaving you again. For the same reason, you gave up your dreams of death as well. Because...to love is to wish happiness upon the recipient of your emotions. If you were to die, non-existence would deny any chance of fulfillment and your legacy would be one of pain and suffering alone. What person would wish that on their friend? Yes, I want you to live, Zeref. But not for selfish reasons. If I believed death was the 'only' thing that could end your agony...then...'_

Here she faltered, unable to imagine a world without him but equally incapable of admitting her desire that he live no matter what.

_'But death isn't the answer in our case. I grow more certain of that truth with every moment we spend together. Your curse is clouding your mind, but I know your genuine intentions in bringing me to Vistarion. In everything you've done for me.'_

His brow darkened, confusing thoughts of horror and yearning plaguing his head like a virus. Deathly magic pulsed to life around him, washing over the wooden deck in disappointment when it discovered there was no life to destroy. He was growing dangerously close to realizing his regard for life, and his capacity to lose it, once more.

Mavis didn't expect an answer. She knew his torment, perhaps more so than he knew it himself. No...she wouldn't presume to think such thoughts. He had been through more than she could imagine.

Zeref's flat murmur pulled her attention from the subject. "Your willingness to relinquish me to the possibility of peace, at your own misfortune, is precisely where we differ. I know I could never let you go. And for that horrendous sin, I cannot forgive myself."

The undercurrent of disgust in his voice was faint, but palpable to her. Yet she knew he was wrong. It wasn't a logical deduction, or even a perceived flaw in his reasoning, but a gut feeling that he was incorrect despite his seemingly levelheaded conviction. Or perhaps because of it.

Seeking to soothe his pain, yet knowing her presence would only exacerbate it if he lost his already tenuous control over his conflicted mind, she retreated.

Back in the silence of the somber hold, she mused over his words—and her own—again and again in the darkness. While it was only rational that they should have weakened her resolve, they instead served to harden it. No doubt her task would take time, but she was more than willing to repeat herself to the Black Wizard until the last lies a harsh world had impressed upon him faded from his reasoning.

...

Zeref stretched from his slumped position, blinking the slumber from his eyes as they grew accustomed to the dim light around him. He knew it was morning again, though he had no external stimuli to validate his innate awareness.

The silence was too loud, gnawing at his serenity, and he reached for Mavis instinctually. Encountering her warm stomach, he pulled her onto his lap, stilling when his hand encountered warm, wet fabric at the straining bust of her toga. Probing gently, he discovered more moisture leaking from her breasts and desisted his curious exploration, realizing what it was.

The wonder he felt at the workings of her body was soon supplanted by the renewed fear of loss that had been stalking him for months on end. Smoothing her hair, he stroked the soft strands repetitively, the motion soothing his overwrought nerves more than the pleasure she would've gleaned from the simple action.

His hand faltered as he felt a wash of warm energy, lapping at his consciousness a bit more forcefully this time. Changing his focus to the baby, protected in his haven of warmth, Zeref covered the taut skin that provided that solace with his hands and sent a gentle wave of his own aura into Mavis's body.

He blinked when the babe still refused to calm itself, concern materializing in his mind when the restless tendrils of magic brushed his core again.

_'Zeref,'_ Mavis remarked worriedly._ 'I have a feeling of foreboding about this.'_

"As do I," he answered evenly.

His expression rapidly changed to one of puzzlement as he felt her stomach spasm once, the slight ripple of movement almost unnoticeable beneath his fingertips. Zeref did notice it, however. As bewilderment transformed into alarm faster than his mind could process the frantic reasoning behind the emotion, he choked, words refusing to form on his lips as his heartrate jumped. He stared into the murky darkness a few moments longer, refusing to accept what lay before him in obvious clarity.

Telepathically, he communicated the first words that came to mind to the girl by his side.

_'This wasn't supposed to happen. We're two weeks away from the expected date! It's—only August. How-'_

Cutting himself off midsentence, he tried to force the mental imagery of his worst fears becoming reality to the back of his head, moderating his breathing instead.

Mavis was silent.

Then,_ 'If I conceived eight and a half months ago, it's plausible for the baby to be two weeks early. We should've accounted for this possibility in our planning.'_

Her tone wasn't reproachful, but it did little to ease the claws of fear clutching Zeref's heart. Self-reproach flooded him as he realized his error in neglecting to foresee the possibility of a premature birth. The pregnancy had been an anomaly, forged by two people who were cursed to destroy life and yet managed to create it instead. There was nothing in the ordinary about their lives, and yet he'd expected a perfectly ordinary interlude for the baby to develop. At the moment, it didn't occur to him to be thankful the child had decided to make an appearance two _weeks_ early instead of two _months._

His unease had been valid, these past few days. Holding her body to his before the next contraction, he made the only decision that appeared obvious.

"I must be honest, I'm uncertain of the risks of undergoing a Teleportation spell across half an ocean with a second party, especially when the situation is delicate. But if I acted now..."

There may still be a chance.

_'That appears to be our only choice, doesn't it?'_

"We don't have time to ponder whether it is."

_'Then go.'_ Her tone was firm, but she couldn't keep the tremor out of the last word.

They had a prayer, a chance at hope. He knew what he must do to seize it. Nodding in the dusk of the hold, he tightened his arms around her lax form, building an orb of potent azure energy unseen by their distant traveling companions. Tendrils reached outwards before reverberating back in towards their master, the ethernano in the air condensing around the spot the couple sat to replenish the container of the magic user.

Rising to his feet with Mavis held firmly in his arms, Zeref shut his eyes and focused against the pitch black of his lids, picturing a broad hall lined with pillars and carpeted in red, the coordinates etched in his memory from his numerous visits to the same location.

The curious sensation of formlessness overtook him, head spinning slightly at the extra magical expenditure of including Mavis in the spell. Lights, colors, and space itself blended into an obscure cloud of nothingness as he focused on every rune catalyzing the spatial magic. One character wrong could render it ineffective, and he was vaguely surprised to feel it take effect precisely as he had designed it to.

On the deck, Keshra jolted as she felt the flicker of disturbance in the atmospheric pressure signaling the use of a higher-level spell, and her expression hardened as she correctly identified the form of magic.

_**A/N:** Enjoy the relative peace before the storm; chapters are about to get angsty and longer. The comments are so kind in light of my extended hiatus, I melted! I treasure each and every one. Thank you for all your kind support, fellow humans. I'm pretty rewards-based, like a little puppy, so I never would've kept updating this story without it._

_I've revised chapters 1-9 to be roughly 3.5k to 4.5k words each (up from 2.5k - 4k words per chapter), meaning they also contain new content. However, to those of you already following this story, you do not have to go reread them all—I didn't change the primary storyline or add anything groundbreaking, merely fixed a few mistakes, mostly those pertaining to syntax and grammatical structure. Another edit worth a mention is the warning I placed at the beginning of the first chapter that should've been there all along._

_I've already more or less written the first draft of every remaining chapter in this fic, meaning updates will actually take place once a week from now on (life permitting). The downside is that while I'm still open to suggestions I will be less likely (read: able) to incorporate them into the story. Not to take levity too far, but a viral epidemic has its perks..._


	12. Chapter 12: When We Two Parted

"Sir, I regret to report that there has been another uprising in the Actinide province."

Frore Yura turned from where he stood in the east wing of the palace with a frown denting the otherwise impeccable skin of his forehead. The fastidious, severe fashion of his turquoise outfit and neat black gloves clashed with unruly azure hair, which had nonetheless been studiously parted to the side in a manner consistent with the overall symmetry of its wearer.

"I dispatched a squadron of infantry to remedy that problem yesterday." His tone was clipped, with an undertone of chill that the reporting officer didn't miss. A stranger would've mistook the brusqueness of the words for malcontent, but the officer knew Frore well enough to understand that he merely considered it the proper way for a leader to speak.

Bowing his head respectfully, he elaborated, "You did, sir. But it seems our emperor's subjects have grown restless in his absence." He didn't need to mention the reason why; many of the young countries had only recently been forged to create the flourishing but incomplete Alvarez they knew today.

Frore's mask remained inflexible. "I would say 'mutinous' is more apt a word to describe their infidelity."

If only the insurgents knew what those who came into direct contact with the emperor could sense; how worthy he was to be served, his thoughtful and steadfast nature. Every quality to be sought in a ruler, theirs possessed.

Frore had been appointed Chief Administrator to serve in his emperor's stead during times in which there was a vacancy, a position of honor he treated with the utmost gravity. There was little doubt in his mind that Emperor Spriggan would return, but _when_ was fast becoming an issue. In the five years he had known His Majesty, this was the longest period of absence he had been required to supervise. After trying in vain to reach his trusted leader, despite their mutual understanding that long vacations were required for the health of all concerned, worry that something had happened had grown in Frore's mind as the months passed.

Just what he was to do with an empire devoid of a clear cause, he didn't know. Not to mention there were endeavors which required a stable, respected hand to supervise—the ongoing construction work in the capital city and the towering palace, for example.

Watching the crowded streets of Vistarion from his vantage point in the unfinished east tower, Frore's mouth didn't twitch at the mirth of the city dwellers celebrating their Harvest Festival. Cracking the knuckles of his right hand, he ignored the officer as he contemplated a solution to the problem at hand.

If a small scattering of rebel guilds intent on raising discord were the least of his worries, he would be as carefree as his responsible personality would allow. But in addition to the troubles of running an empire that was impossibly young despite the somewhat older country composing it—continually made obvious by the rumors cycling amongst its citizens—was his own uncertainty. Without their leader, Alvarez was merely a name. An insignificant cog in the monstrous machine of Earthland, bearing an ostentatious banner but just waiting to be broken by the continual grind of hardships unmatched by a stable hand.

"Irene assured me she would personally assist the squadron in quelling the blasphemous _citizens_ before this minor spat got out of hand," he mused aloud to himself.

And she had, but whether the enchantress who bore the epithet of Scarlet Despair would make good on that claim was another matter entirely. Not that she was lazy or weak-willed—quite the opposite, in fact—but Frore was well aware that Irene answered to no one save the emperor and herself. He fought back a sigh as he considered the dysfunctionality of His Majesty's personal guard. He would ensure it carried out missions in a manner that was equal parts organized and efficient by the time every vacancy in its ranks was filled, but until then the stress of being uncertain as to whether his orders were as well-respected as Emperor Spriggan's would be chronic.

Shaking his head at the sad lack of discipline involved in Zeref's methodology as a leader, yet not daring to consciously think such disloyal thoughts, Frore turned from the window to convene a meeting in the conference room commonly used for such purposes. Inside his gloves, chill fingers were iced over.

...

Finally reaching the main hall of Alcazar, as the palace had been christened despite His Majesty's remarks that a name was a meaningless component to give such a temporary structure, Frore stepped past the guards (who were properly attired and fully decked in magic-resistant armor, per his direction) and onto the long stretch of recently installed plush red carpet.

Every hair stood up along his arms as he suddenly sensed an unmistakably familiar magical disturbance in the air around him. Before his heart could lift at the imminent arrival of His Majesty, the Teleportation spell's swirling orb of dark magic materialized, bearing a figure swathed in the runes circling his body—_bodies_, Frore corrected himself, though the information so readily provided by his eyes made no sense at the moment. Zeref held the small form of a woman. Or rather, she would have been small, if not for the pronounced bulk of her midriff through the somehow familiar white cloth sheathing her body. It was then that Frore raised his eyes to His Majesty, mouth gaping with shock in a rare display of emotion.

He didn't have time to choose and voice one of the thousand questions swarming his mind, for hardly had Zeref materialized with the _enceinte_ girl did he start running through the hall. Never before had he seen his emperor any less than fully composed, and Frore wondered if it was snowing in hell, too.

"Frore!" The fear in Emperor Spriggan's usually soft voice was palpable, but so was the authority Alvarez's second in command had been longing to hear for over a year. "Summon a healer at once. Tell them to meet me in my quarters—quickly!"

Though dumbfounded, he responded with the ingrained immediacy of a soldier receiving orders from a general. "Right away, Your Majesty."

...

Zeref had stopped feeling. Every movement was fueled by rationality, his only focus on getting Mavis to his rooms posthaste. Supporting her with one hand and laying the other on the runes dancing across the magic-resistant door, he broke the intricate enchantment and vaguely remembered to breathe while it opened. Striding into the primary livingroom of the suite, he passed neatly stacked piles of books and arrays of obscure magical artifacts on his way to the large bedchamber.

Laying Mavis's body on his bed with care, he felt the clutches of panic begin to extend across his chest again in the silence following the impact of her limbs on the cool surface of the mattress. Impatient tendrils of Black magic swirled around his body as his curse began to pulse to life. He knew he should leave, one ear trained on the noises outside the hall to listen for the healer's arrival, but his feet wouldn't seem to obey his command to move. Mavis lay deathly still, hair spread on the counterpane of the bed.

Not still, he reminded himself as he saw her stomach contract again. Finally tearing his focus away from her, he backed out of the large chamber, reluctance to hurt his family being the only impetus that could keep him from his rightful place at Mavis's side.

"Your Majesty," came Frore's distant voice. "The only magical healer I could summon on such short notice with skill in—well, these matters-"

"Yes?" Zeref cut the uncomfortable words off.

"An older lady called Madra, proficient in both midwifery and magical ailments. I scoured our archives to find her, and sent several soldiers to escort her here on short notice."

Zeref nodded sharply. He had backed away from Frore while the other man was talking, knowing the risks of close contact with anyone while he was in such a state. Never before had his curse been in such prominent display on Alvarez territory, and he was keenly aware of the distance each wall held from his wretched aura. Needing to escape the confining chambers suddenly, regardless of their airy size, he addressed his right-hand man again.

"The security lacrima I requested have been installed?"

Frore nodded briskly, dark blue eyes snapping. He was gratified to relinquish control of the situation to his capable predecessor.

"Create a vacancy in the control room. I wish to stay there. If you have any questions, ask me over the intercom." Turning to leave, Zeref was gone in a flash of obsidian wind.

Staring at the spot His Majesty had been a second before, Frore snapped himself out of his hesitancy and strode from the room. Their emperor was back. A bit out of character and severely distressed, but it was nothing his faithful servants couldn't help remedy. For now, they were grateful for their monarch's long-awaited return.

...

Zeref stared at the projected footage before him, hands subconsciously clenching the armrests of the chair he occupied. The healer, a weathered, elderly lady, had requested privacy in the chamber, oblivious to the hidden security lacrima implanted in the corner of the room.

Leaning over Mavis's comatose body, she checked her neck for a pulse, an expression of puzzlement crossing her face when she didn't find one. Deciding to communicate directly with her, Zeref used the intercom linking the rooms and explained hastily, "She's in a magically induced coma. Deliver the baby while there's still time."

"I'll do what I can," the healer replied slowly. "But the girl's pelvis is exceptionally small. Due to the narrowness of the birth canal and how it could injure the child, I may have to perform a cesarean for the best outcome for both mother and baby... Though I pray that won't be necessary."

The wood beneath Zeref's fingertips splintered, gouging into his skin and enticing his blood to trickle freely. The lacerations healed before much could drip to the floor below, the pain entirely unnoticed.

_'Don't worry, Zeref.'_ It was Mavis's voice he heard this time, through private Telepathy. Turning, he saw her astral form standing by his side._ 'My body should be impervious to physical harm. It's the baby I'm worried about.'_

"As am I," he said unsteadily, though it wasn't the whole truth. He felt an ominous danger lurking in the future.

_'Are you ready to use it?'_ She indicated the bandages binding his right arm.

After a moment, his shoulders slumped slightly. "No."

On the receiver's screen before them, Madra hustled about, preparing the necessary articles delivered to her by the palace staff and muttering something about how helpful it would be to have a medical apprentice right about now.

Making an attempt at humor, Mavis informed, _'I've read some books on labor and delivery, and I would look away if I were you. The next part isn't pretty.'_

When she saw Zeref's curse threaten to rear its head again as his concern mounted, she hastily rectified her words._ 'But the death rate for cesarean deliveries_ is_ relatively low these days!'_

Forcing his emotions to recede and welcoming the numb indifference that stole over him, Zeref sat staring into space as fragments of memories threatened to wrest his control from his wavering consciousness. All the people he couldn't save, reaching out to him from beyond the grave...

Mavis wasn't going to be another casualty of his curse. His sanity, or what threads of it he'd retained over the centuries, would not survive such a crippling blow.

...

Hours passed in tense waiting, during which time Frore and the rest of Zeref's subjects relied on common sense to keep them from his control room. There he sat immobile, nothing capable of diverting his gaze from the live feed of Madra trying and failing to deliver the child naturally. The herbs she injected intravenously failed to ease the birth, and when it became obvious by the frightening fluctuation of magic power levels that there was no other way, the healer opened her satchel and began laying out tools for the surgical removal of the fetus.

"I would advise you look away," she advised her emperor in a gravelly voice, foregoing to pay tribute to his title.

_'Zeref.'_ Mavis's voice sounded small._ 'It will be time, soon. To test our theory before it's too late.'_

"I know." _Yet I'm reluctant to destroy the only link between us._

As though reading his thoughts, or perhaps his hesitancy, Mavis interjected, '_Destroying my ethereal body is the only hope we have right now. It may seem counterintuitive, but something tells me it will work. Please...trust me.'_

He knew she was logically correct. If he didn't destroy her projection, then chances were she would lose her magic power and with it, all manner of communication. But...if he could invent a method to enhance a wizard's magic power externally, perhaps through a machine that had yet to be created due to the sheer ignorance of scientists studying magical properties, then...

Or better yet, if he could circumnavigate the negative demonic effects of using Lost magic to resurrect her—or rather, devise a method to pseudo-naturally animate a comatose person-

_'Zeref?'_ Mavis repeated herself._ 'I know what you must be thinking, but consider the long-term effects. In your efforts to reach your goal, the meaning of that objective will become lost to you over time. It will be the curse's doing, not yours.'_

_'I can't afford to lose you,'_ he countered steadily.

His eyes slid shut as the old woman prepared to make the first incision on the smooth skin of Mavis's stomach. When he opened them again, crimson blood was flowing to moisten the surgical sheet beneath her. How much more of the sanguine fluid could a body lose? The wound didn't appear to be instantaneously healing, and his breathing faltered as the healer continued without skipping a beat. The pooled blood congealed on either side of her body as it met the cool air.

Shaking his head, trying to force his curse back to harmless dormancy before admitting his efforts were only exacerbating its jurisdiction over him, Zeref turned from the sight to face Mavis.

Her eyes were earnest, pleading; her voice was incongruously calm._ 'Use it now.'_

Standing abruptly, he reached for the cloth on his forearm, hesitating as his death magic pulsated in the form of a dark draft of poison swirling through the control room in reckless potency.

His pause was short-lived. Calling upon the impatient energy filling his core, he focused on the details of the runes comprising the magic circle that had sprung to life around his feet. Desiring the spell to contain the entirety of his palace, he conjured the will of his magic power and cast it.

"Pro Tempore." His voice rang in the stillness.

Mavis gasped, feeling the aftermath of the sheer magical intensity Zeref had radiated in the moments before the spell was cast thrum through her body in fine tremors. Glancing around quickly, she saw that the saturation of color in the room had faded entirely. Turning her gaze to the screen they had been watching, it was apparent the figures in it were achromatic as well.

But more than that, they were _still._ Not temporarily frozen in motion as though by will, but utterly, unnaturally static. Mavis gasped as she identified the form of magic Zeref had used and turned to face him. He had excluded the two of them from the incantation, and stood watching her with a wary expression, almost appearing lost.

_'This is one of the Lost magics,'_ she exclaimed._ 'I didn't know it existed outside of encyclopedias... How did you...?'_

"It will only give us a few minutes. Though time appears to be in complete stasis, it still flows. I've only stinted its natural sequence. And even if that weren't the case..." He trailed off tiredly, as though assuming he needn't explain to her.

_'...you can only preserve it for so long before you exhaust your magical ability,'_ she finished.

"I wanted a few moments more with you, Mavis."

She opened her mouth, closed it again, struggling to find the right words to say. How did one go about bidding a possible farewell to the only person they could relate to? The only person she'd ever truly _loved._ The months they'd spent together had passed too quickly, encapsulated in an era apart from the harsh clarity of the real world. They'd been lucky, she realized. In their situation, any time beyond the moment she fell into a coma was an unforeseen blessing. Yet she refused to accept that it could end this way. They still had a curse to break, a lifetime to spend together, a child to raise. She couldn't leave him now.

Or so Mavis told herself.

_'This isn't goodbye,'_ she asserted, but her voice was choked.

The look in Zeref's eyes filled her with longing, a need to ease their haunted pain. Walking up to him in the deafening silence blanketing the atmosphere like heavy clouds before a violent storm, she tentatively touched his hand. He only stared into her eyes unblinkingly, as though memorizing them, drinking in her expressions and vitality before it was snatched from his grasp like every other valuable thing in his existence.

They stood that way, each voicelessly taking in the other's presence, until Zeref's trance was eventually broken and his eyes flooded with crystalline tears. Mavis read more in those unspoken words than any they could've shared in an attempt to explain the moment. Stepping away from her, he nullified the spell.

As the world came into focus again, time flowing on oblivious to the disruption in its transcendent power, he stripped the fraying fabric from his forearm. Standing in stark contrast to his pale skin was the intricate black brand he'd worn for weeks.

Raising his arm, he clenched his right fist and aimed it at her. The incongruity of directing an offensive spell at one he held so dear to his heart made his body rebel, but instead of pulling away he clasped his bicep with his other hand and felt the dynamic magic thrum to life beneath his skin. Mavis swallowed, bracing herself for the unexpected, and gave him a tremulous nod.

The flashing yellow energy flared to life, imbued with her aura. It danced through Zeref's body, more electrifying than adrenaline, more terrifying than destruction. He drew a deep breath, willing the spell to work yet hoping it would fail all at once. As the power rushed through his arm, it appeared the former would be the case.

"Assemble, O glimmer of light guided by fairies! May your radiance shine and vanquish the fangs of wickedness!"

It was now or never.

_"Fairy Glitter!"_

A blinding beam of purifying light struck Mavis's apparition, tearing through her Projection to shatter her soul. The sudden attack of pain took her by surprise, ripping a scream from her formless throat before she could stifle it. As she tried to keep quiet for Zeref's sake, she soon discovered the effort was futile. Every nerve she wasn't aware she could sense was alight with agony.

Zeref grit his teeth at the sound of her involuntary shrieks, willing the incantation to finish its task and ignoring his deep-seated aversion to the damage his magic was causing. More horrifying than her suffering was his reaction to it; a flicker of remorse quickly followed by delight, then chased by self-revulsion. _This is for you, Mavis. I'm sorry I wasn't able to find another way._

After what seemed like an eternity, her screams died and the blinding light faded to reveal a rather impressive crater where she had been standing. Particles of debris floated to the floor slowly, revealing the devastation such power had wrought on the room.

Breathing erratically, Zeref lowered his arm to his side, closing his eyes for a second to regain his bearings. His nerves were frazzled from seeing Mavis in such pain, head buzzing with the high of using so powerful a form of magic. But it wasn't the magical expenditure that he needed to recover from—he had easily utilized far more in the past, and in a shorter window of time. Discordant thoughts stole his breath, and he would've stood that way for a while longer had he not heard an unexpected noise.

A keening, mewling little wail sounded over the intercom where the screen resided on his desk. Turning slowly, he couldn't rationalize his incredulity when he saw a little creature squirming in the soft towel Madra had wrapped around it. She was wiping the fluids from the thing's face, the umbilical cord still uncut as it needily drew nourishment from its mother's placenta.

Zeref swallowed, staring in fascination as he counted ten perfectly formed fingers. The substantiality of the new life before him was driven home more deeply than ever before. His own flesh and blood, twenty-three of his chromosomes paired with twenty-three of Mavis's, the genes embedded in their DNA combining to create a phenomenon that was no less miraculous for its common occurrence. What had previously been words on the page of a science textbook was rapidly becoming a reality to him.

"It's a boy," the decrepit but highly capable midwife said, folding the towel over the baby's impossibly small, bloody form carefully. "Perfectly healthy, despite his somewhat early arrival. And powerful. I could sense that from the start."

Zeref wasn't listening, his gaze drawn to Mavis's hematic body. He felt bile rising in his throat as he saw how utterly still she was, as immobile as she'd been the moment before he had cast Fairy Glitter. Her skin was stark white, almost matching the color of the cream sheet spread underneath her. Her eyes were closed in peaceful repose...

And a sickening unease began churning in the pit of Zeref's stomach. She wasn't waking. The implications flashed before him as his mind refused to accept the basic observation, a vast chasm of defeat yawning below his consciousness. He knew he would fall into it in due time. But for now, all he could do was fight off the exponentially horrifying uncertainty of whether she knew that this would happen. If she had seen an opportunity for rest and pounced upon it... _She wouldn't,_ he told himself, before rethinking that assumption again.

Would _he?_ If presented with the offer of what he had always longed for, a chance for peace, would he take it?

_Not if I had to leave her behind,_ he told himself desperately, wanting to believe it. But he knew that if death was the cessation of all activity, which was the ultimate meaning of peace, then what one wished for before they attained that peace would ultimately be meaningless to them in the absence of an afterlife. The dead were without capacity to care, so it naturally followed that any wish they would make beforehand would eventually be ludicrous for them to care about afterwards, and thus equally ridiculous to conform to _before_ they ended it all.

Death was only cruel to those it left behind.

He shook his head once, desperate to clear it of the depressing sense of impending emptiness. He didn't want to be alive to experience the pain that would come. It would show him no mercy, wretched sinner that he was. Various methods of achieving death flashed before his eyes, all futile, but in his imagination they were effective. If only Mavis had taken him with her.

Though the utter uselessness of anything he were to do from this point onward devoured him, Zeref couldn't stop the cry of anguish from ripping through his raw throat any more than he could successfully die. A venomous black wind tore through the control room, destroying what little was left in the devastation of Fairy Glitter's wake.

An infant's piercing cry eventually overrode his own, and he collapsed, panting, on the unforgiving floor. The lacrima broadcasting the painful reminder was still unharmed, and he wearily listened to the small wail as he leaned his back against the wall. He was drained—physically, magically and emotionally. A dull thought crossed his mind, a primitive urge to escape the palace before his subordinates sought him out. It would be detrimental to his leadership if anyone were to see him in this state, but at the moment, he couldn't find it in himself to care.

The only thing worthy of his involvement had left him, and- _No, not the only thing,_ he reminded himself.

The baby had quieted, his piteous little sniffles hushing in response to the gentle crooning of the healer who held him in her comfortingly mature arms. The child was innocent, as innocent as Mavis had been the unfortunate day she met him in the forest. He was a part of her, of them both. Zeref's heart clenched painfully. Did this new life enter the world to take the place of the one exiting it?

Unbidden, a memory of Mavis's words came back to haunt the lone mage with unwanted paternal feelings of duty and tenderness—unwanted, when being a father had previously been one of the primary focal points of his existence.

_He would need you and he wouldn't understand why you didn't want him._

_You need to live, for this baby's sake._

_What I'm__ asking you to do isn't easy. Give up your death wish, Zeref. Our son needs you._

And his own response,_ I gave it up the moment you accepted me._

Uncontrollable tears fell from his trembling face, accompanying the stab of pain that cruelly lanced his partially mended heart, ripping out the stitches that had barely begun to heal its torn surface. He wondered if she had known he would attempt to stay sane, if only for the sake of their child. He was all the babe had in a harsh and unforgiving world. He found himself both despising and missing his sweet Mavis, with a ferocity unmatched by anything he had experienced before towards Ankhseram, his little brother, or the rest of the world that had been so cruel.

Zeref had never felt so alone.

...

He lost track of the time he spent immobile in the ruins of the control room, drowning in an eerie feeling similar to what he experienced the morning he'd stood to carry the lifeless body of a kind girl to her concerned friends. He had risked his heart a second time, and this was the result. He wondered how much more pain he would need to be on the receiving end of for the lesson fate was trying to teach to sink in.

Finally the Black Wizard stood, reasoning that because change was going to occur regardless of his own action or inaction, he may as well instigate it. His body and mind were calm, he discovered, but felt no satisfaction at the regained control. There was only emptiness in the void of his rampant death magic.

Teleporting to the long hall where he'd first arrived earlier that day what seemed like an eternity ago, he strode towards the diverging passageways to find his second in command and bring about some direly needed structure. He still retained the trust of his people, and it was unlikely he would harm them in his present state.

His son needed him.

He found Frore standing at attention, hands clasped behind his back and an odd expression on his face—which he promptly vanquished in favor of a deep bow of respect to Zeref, regardless of the latter's disinterest in formalities.

Features schooled into a blank mask, Zeref waved his hand casually. "I seem to be in need of a new wardrobe. Would you mind?"

"Consider it done, Your Majesty." The mage's tone belied his enthusiasm towards procuring a more appropriate set of clothing for his emperor, having secretly disapproved of Zeref's rudimentary and outdated style of dress from the start. Tact, however, prompted him to ask: "Would you prefer any fashion in particular?"

"No," Zeref answered patiently.

"How else may I be of service?"

"For now, the clothing will suffice. When you return I'll expect a status report of my nation's accomplishments, as well as losses, in addition to the current state of affairs across the empire."

Nodding crisply, Frore hesitated, curiosity compelling him to ask a question that could very well risk his good standing with his supervisor.

Zeref's calm eyes encouraged him, steadily waiting for whatever he may say, but something in their benevolent black depths had changed; something like liquid tar cooled to solidity, or volatile emotion simmered to resignation. Only years of close servitude and amicability would have permitted him to bring up such a blatantly personal topic, and he delved into the inquiry bravely.

"The baby, Your Majesty. I assume..."

Eyebrows lifted, Zeref cut him off midsentence. "He is mine."

There was an undercurrent to the words, of what precisely Frore couldn't detect, but it chilled even him. Nodding, he turned to go about fulfilling his errand, wondering about the unexpected events of the day. Of all the people to father a child by an unknown girl, he hadn't thought His Majesty would be one of them. He was wise to keep such words private, and decided he would do the same in regards to the information he had just uncovered. He held too much respect for his emperor to go about spreading idle gossip, and it was impossible to tell whether doing so would prove detrimental to the empire he'd sworn to uphold.

Watching his retreating back, Zeref sighed inaudibly and turned to see to his other task.

...

Outside the gaping ornate doorway of his suite, he stood silently, partially unveiling his magical aura to alert the healer within._ 'May I speak to you?'_ he asked telepathically, and listened as her shuffling footsteps crossed the floor of his bedroom._ 'Without the baby,'_ he rectified hastily.

There was a momentary pause, and she came to meet him, weathered face crinkled in greeting. Stopping at the doorway, she perused his emotionless expression and worn outfit discerningly. "So you're the father. I'd expected my emperor to be...older."

"Sorry to disappoint," Zeref said drily. Then, lowering his voice, he tried to ask, "Is she...?"

It was too soon. The ache in his chest flared to life again, but he forced back the treacherous emotion the way he'd grown used to doing, wrapping it in harmless apathy like toxic waste meant to be disposed of later.

Madra's expression didn't soften. "The girl isn't dead, if that's what you want to know. But she's under the effect of a magical affliction the likes of which I've never seen in all my years healing wizards. It seems her magic power had been completely drained and she was feeding off that of the child's—yet what should have killed her somehow did not."

Reading his silent look of confirmation, she surmised, "Ah. You already know. What did you do to her?"

A flicker of irritation flared in Zeref's eyes, but he countered her bait with another question.

"Will she awaken?"

"Impossible to tell at present. I sense no magical aura emanating from her, yet...her pulse has restored."

His heart skipped a beat while she went on in the same puzzled tone.

"Her circulatory and organ systems are operating normally, restoring the blood she has lost. I have her hooked up to an electrolyte solution that should provide the minerals necessary for her to make a full physical recovery."

" 'Physical?' " he reiterated quietly.

"I'm uncertain as to whether her recovery will expand to her consciousness. It's too early to tell for sure, but her coma appears to be stable. Whether she wakes depends on her ability to absorb ethernano particles from the air."

Zeref knew that it also depended upon whether their plan to return Mavis's spirit to her body had worked. A frame devoid of a soul was as lifeless as an abacus without software; regardless of whether it physically functioned, it would be as though she was braindead.

He'd been happy with her spirit. While her body had its charms, he would've been content with her fascinating mind, always subject to the pull it exerted over him. It was because he wished for her to be wholely happy that he'd decided to revive her in the first place—that, and because they'd found out how they'd been able to communicate in the first place.

Eyes coming into focus on the face before him again, he recalled what he needed to say. "It will take me some time to secure the services of a proper nurse for the infant. I request that you stay here to look after him until I do."

"Only you're not _requesting_, are you?" she asked in grim amusement, for it was not lost on her that he didn't voice the appeal with a questioning lilt.

"That would depend on your willingness to acquiesce to performing a simple favor for the sake of your country."

"Do you want to hold your son?"

"I- No." The sudden change of topic disconcerted him for a second. It was odd to hear the words _your son_ spoken so casually in passing. He would have to acclimate himself to it.

Zeref swallowed, glancing away briefly. As strong as the temptation to hold the babe was, that could never happen. He would ensure there were at least several rooms between them at all times, so the potentially fatal contact would never give calamity an opportunity to destroy what remained of his family.

The midwife stood looking at him doubtfully for a few moments, then nodded her head sagely. "I'll do it."

"Take care of the baby?"

"Yes."

He nodded, as though her consent had been expected. "I'll take my leave now. In a few minutes, an armed escort will arrive to accompany you to a new set of rooms. You won't exit the palace grounds, nor will you take him from the safety of his rooms. For your service, you will be rewarded handsomely."

Without further ado, Zeref turned and left her at the threshold of his personal habitation. He hadn't told her what to do with the body of the nameless girl within, but his unspoken command was that she stay in his rooms. Madra shrugged; it wasn't any of her business if he should decide to keep the body of the baby's mother without commissioning her as the caretaker.

She had a hunch that the history between these two ran deeper than anyone could tell from the outside.

_**AN:** Ahh, I do like to see that review count go up. Thank you to everyone who is following this story, as well as the guest readers who enjoy from afar! I'm honored and grateful. Two new followers and favs since my last upload. Yay! *conducts celebratory dance*_

_Zeref mentioned Alvarez had been in existence for several centuries when speaking to Makarov in the canon, and at this point in the storyline it was founded roughly a hundred years ago—or at the end of the X500s. However, it took decades for it to be recognized as a country, and still more for it to become the stable, fortified empire that Zeref uses against Fairy Tail in the final season._


	13. Chapter 13: The Weight Of Solitude

Zeref ensured that the set of rooms he selected for his son were far from his own suite in the north wing of the palace, including the room he would be spending the most of his time in: his study. He'd arranged for the monitoring lacrimas to be moved into the same chamber, amongst rare collections of books and other interestingly obscure items, so he would be able to supervise the goings-on of his palace and nation from a relatively isolated location.

He couldn't help but be acutely aware of Mavis's body only a wall away, but he'd put his faith in the magically enforced walls he had tediously devised and constructed decades ago to block the devastating effects of his death magic, just in case. Though he rarely tended to spend the night at Alcazar and his endeavor appeared pointless at the time, it seemed his hard work may actually be of use, after all.

In addition to the existing handiwork in his suite, he'd ordered a magically resistant door of the same compounds he'd used for the walls to be constructed in his bedroom. It stood locked and bolted, a reminder of what may as well have been a different dimension separating the two of them.

...

On his way to a meeting he had scheduled to convene, Zeref met Frore Yura in the broad hallway, standing alongside a servant bearing a neat stack of black and white clothing. Nodding perfunctorily, he took the articles and thanked the two duly.

Upon unfolding them in the privacy of a bathing room, he smiled humorlessly at the modernified but slightly more opulent robes before him, the white toga trimmed with gold tassles. At least the black tunic featured easily accessible fastenings down the front. It would appear Frore had reached a compromise between keeping with the standards of dress befitting an emperor and allowing him the comforting familiarity of clothing that had gone out of style ages ago.

Stripping from his well-used tunic, Zeref donned the fresh outfit and tried to mentally prepare himself for being in the company of others.

Stepping into the room he had designated for use as a conference hall, he scanned the large, circular table for familiar faces. Frore, ever loyal, sat at killer attention to the right of his emperor's seat. Of the other subjects, he counted a few minor commanders of his small army and other leaders he'd appointed to various stations, including the Chief of Staff of Alvarez and High Minister Zajeel Raml.

Irene Belserion was conspicuously absent from her place around the table, as were a few of the other five members of his personal guard. Shields, he'd christened them. Those present included Wall Eehto, Bloodman and Larcade, all of them books he had imbued with Life magic to create demonic living forms he called the Etherious.

Feeling his temples begin to throb already, Zeref assumed his station in the largest chair of those clustered about the table, letting the mantle of steady determination and reliability that had so rallied those around him fall over his countenance like an impenetrable mask.

The minutes passed as he addressed his subjects, receiving the status update from Frore and news of the development of Vistarion, as well as his army, from other subservients. Each had been appointed to a task, and each he addressed, until his head was splitting with the effort of the charade he was partaking in. However, his magic remained stable, and he pressed on. Later, he would remember next to nothing of that afternoon, save the consuming emptiness threatening to pull him under whenever he paused for breath.

Any who knew Emperor Spriggan personally could see that his mannerisms were slightly off. He smiled more, but in a hauntingly empty way. His eyes were fathomless, containing not a shred of what they had previously assumed was kindness. His voice cracked here and there, and he seemed easily distracted by nothing in particular.

There had been rumors throughout the castle of why that might be, some wondering whether it had something to do with the strange arrival of the passenger His Majesty brought with him early that morning, but Frore was quite certain his upset was inextricably linked with the girl's wellbeing.

He had been looking forward to Zeref's calm, soothing and authoritative guidance. Nothing could have prepared him for the fact that his emperor was finally caring for someone—and deeply. His second in command merely hoped he wouldn't allow his empire to fall by the wayside as his obsession with his lover grew.

...

Shutting his door behind him and letting the magically binding seal automatically activate, Zeref walked through his main living quarters unsteadily. Reaching the sofa in his study, he sat heavily, blindly staring at the image of Mavis's catatonic body on the monitor screen. Beside that lacrima was another. His son's. He'd yet to even turn it on, though he had made certain the healer he'd commissioned could reach him at any time if a matter was important.

Watching the slow, hypnotic rise and fall of Mavis's chest beneath the sheet that covered her, he wished against logic that she would open her eyes. The stakes of hope were high. When one saw the light at the end of the tunnel, they were forced to keep walking by the waning light of hope and their own survival instincts, instead of succumbing to the relief of collapsing mid-journey.

Her hair looked soft and inviting, lips parted as though she had only fallen asleep for a short nap. The visible edge of a bandage made it evident that that was not the case. His heart lurched as he imagined going into her—his—room, just to be near her for a moment, but he knew how devastating that impetuous decision could prove to be. He couldn't trust himself to place as strict a restraint on his emotions as was necessary to tame his curse.

Around him, her familiar magical presence was conspicuously absent.

The reality of how utterly alone he was in a world without Mavis sank its hooks into his mind a bit further. Perhaps he'd taken her for granted, though taking the acceptance and companionship of another human being for granted appeared impossible to him in his current state. He hadn't had his fill of her, and now that she had been wrenched from his grasp he couldn't believe he had let her slip through his fingers. _I failed,_ he thought in amazement. Unless...no, he couldn't afford to let himself hope right now.

And even if he could, what kind of love did he bear for Mavis if he wanted her to wake to this world? Her curse was still active—the fact that she was alive after the birth of their son was blatant proof of its healing powers. Zeref concluded he was a selfish wretch to assume that he was enough of a reason for her to truly desire to live. Guilt flooded him at the thought, but not even self-disgust could quell his traitorous wish.

For her to wake up.

For her to live.

He wanted to give her back the innocence Ankhseram—and by extension, he himself—had stolen from her. Or so he told his hyperactive yet underproductive mind. Surely he wouldn't wish for her revival to suit his own selfish needs alone. Not when she would be in pain for the rest of her eternal existence.

Zeref's headache had grown worse, but he didn't notice.

Glancing at the lacrima next to the one displaying live coverage of Mavis's room, he contemplated turning it on momentarily. Cringing, he jerked his gaze from it, unable to bring himself to watch his beloved son despite the urge he felt to do so. He hadn't named him yet, feeling it was something Mavis would have wanted to be a part of.

In hindsight, he found it rather odd that in all their time together, they hadn't discussed what name might be suitable for their child. But in hindsight, he was realizing a great deal of things. The months they'd spent together had felt like a dream, and there were so many things he was unable to say to her now. Contemplating the possibility of attempting to raise the boy without her, he was seized with fresh pain at the thought of how many ways he would be reminded of Mavis.

Memories filtered through his mind, some distant and others recent. All of her.

_Your eyes have such a kind and gentle quality to them. I refuse to believe there's a bad person in there._

_There's nothing to forgive. I made a promise, and you had every right to hold me to it._

_...Please don't be upset, Zeref. I didn't die and we're going to find a way to revive my body so we can lift this curse._

_I'll never leave you again, if I can help it._

_I haven't fallen to the darkness, and neither will you. We'll find a cure. Together._

_Zeref...do you love me?_

_That makes me happy.._

_Rest. I'll be watching over you._

_Whatever is troubling you, I hope you know that you always have someone who loves you. Someone to talk to...about anything._

Zeref sat straight up in his chair as the forgotten whisper of those words rang in his ears, and he realized his mistrust of her motives had been greatly unfounded. How could he have doubted Mavis the way he'd been driven to in the aftermath of that morning, after all they'd been through together, all they'd strived to achieve? She would never have voluntarily left him, or their son, the way she did. She was a fighter—unlike him, thank God. The only time she had sought death had been when there was no buffer between the harsh reality of her curse and the innocents whose lives it stole.

Only an extended duration of guilt and unopposed lies brought about by the Curse of Contradiction had broken her will to live. But then he'd found her, and she had rediscovered her purpose anew... Or perhaps he was projecting his own feelings onto her. Bowing his head, he clenched his teeth in a bid to contain the heartache threatening to shove him into the chasm again, and made no sound as he failed and fell.

Chest convulsing in dry sobs, no tears would surface as the heaves transformed into gasping laughter. It was worse this way, when his eyes would burn in dry misery, pain no less dull because of the curse's confusion. Too tired to feel revolted at his display of insanity, apathetic to the opinions of others or even himself, he eventually fell unconscious in the chair where he sat.

...

Zeref blinked awake at dawn the next morning, slightly surprised he'd slept through the remainder of the previous day in addition to the night. The events leading up to then barraged his memory and he threw a quick glance at Mavis's body, which was in the same position as before.

Slowly becoming aware of why he'd awoken, the buzzing of the communication lacrima he'd instructed Frore to use registered in his mind. Ignoring it, he sat staring blankly into space. The heart-wrenching pain of before had dissipated, leaving an impregnably cold numbness in its wake, and he was at a loss as to what to do next. Most of his focus up until this point had been set on getting Mavis and the baby safely to Vistarion, and now that he'd reached that haven of safety and failed to revive her...

It wasn't that there weren't plenty of decisions to be made and tasks to complete concerning Alvarez, but rather that there seemed to be no meaning in doing anything. Perhaps it was only the curse conflicting his thinking. He couldn't tell anymore.

He would recover from this, just as he had recovered from every other major loss in his life, though it may take a century or two. His tears were spent, but the intolerable pain they left in their wake was permanent. Zeref didn't want to heal. But when one couldn't die, there was nothing else to do.

He could go to his library and toy with some ideas for a new Etherious, he supposed, but the thought only made him tired instead of kindling that familiar feeling vaguely reminiscent of excitement. Or...he could devise a method for reviving Mavis as he had Natsu. Face contorting, he held a hand to his head. She wasn't dead, whereas his little brother had been. _Then you can figure out a way to break her coma,_ he told himself, thinking through the headache. He could perform a more in-depth study of the elemental composition of ethernano, and orchestrate a method to enhance her absorption of it. Perhaps invent a machine? He was skilled with mechatronics.

Zeref sighed slowly, wishing his brain had chosen a better time to take a vacation. It was as if he couldn't concentrate on any given topic for longer than twenty seconds. Every thought ended in the other room, with Mavis.

Realizing he had been sitting in the same chair for more or less a day, he stood slowly, intending to at least maintain a pretense of normalcy for those that depended on him. The antique manual metronome hanging on the wall across the room dutifully informed him it was August 31st, X697. Eyeing the lacrima next to Mavis's, he activated it on impulse, desperate for a diversion from his own mind.

The image of a well-furnished, if a bit opulent, bedroom came into focus. Sitting by an ornately carved crib, the old healer was reading what appeared to be a medical manual. The little bundle in the cradle beside her was impossible to look away from, once he laid eyes on it. The baby lay on his back, legs bowed and pink head to the side as he sucked his thumb in his sleep. She hadn't put a cap on his skull as was usually done to keep babies' heads warm, and Zeref blinked at the soft down of light blond hair that was visible in the dimly lit room. Shifting his gaze to the infant's fresh little face, the tilt of his nose was somehow recognizable...and he realized he had seen it a million times in the childhood picture of himself in the locket around his neck.

He swallowed against the sudden lump in his throat as he took in the sight of his son sleeping peacefully. He had Mavis's hair. Zeref was overcome by a sudden urge to see her, just once. Switching off the lacrima, he glanced at the newly built door blocking his passage to his bedroom. A wave of longing coursed through him, exhausting his reserve of control with its tenacious ferocity.

He knew his very presence in the palace was dangerous, let alone being in the same vicinity as Mavis if she were to wake, but he felt an equal urge to play with fire as he did to jerk his hand from it. Stepping towards the door's intransigent pull, he raised his hand to the mechanism and it read his magical signature, opening to his will.

The interior of the chamber was well lit, the large bed almost swallowing up the slender figure in the middle of it. Forgetting to breathe, Zeref halted a yard away from her and stared wistfully. His mind gave him confusing signals, some warning of the danger of his actions and others insisting he needed to be near her. His curse remained dormant, however, leading him to wonder what the implications of that were before he brushed it off.

Thinking could wait.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, he breathed in Mavis's scent and studied her peaceful face. A little of the stress drained from his chest as it loosened slightly, and minutes passed in quiet serenity as he gathered his bearings. He'd come to make an apology.

"I'm sorry I was unable to save you, Mavis."

He wasn't certain she couldn't hear him, and the possibility that she could made him fall silent. He didn't allow himself to contemplate a future in which she never awoke.

Leaning over her face, he pressed his lips to her warm, lax mouth gently, letting the contact tell her what he couldn't say or even properly feel. Pulling back before his magic became an issue, he looked at her one more time before making a prompt exit. It wasn't until the door closed behind him that he berated himself for the foolishness of his actions even as his eyes filled with tears.

...

Zeref would have been content to stay in complete isolation for the remainder of his stay at Alcazar, but that was not a liberty an emperor could take if he wished to retain his station. Not after a year-long exodus, at any rate.

His treacherous emotions banished once more, he decided to give getting back into the swing of things another attempt.

Spotting a guard and requesting to speak with Frore, he muttered, "Déjà vu."

When the ice mage greeted him with apparent relief, standing several respectful yards away, Zeref didn't have to ask the reason he'd been paged earlier that morning.

"Lady Irene has returned, Your Majesty."

"Is that so?"

"Indeed. She was scheduled to arrive yesterday, but I admit I was surprised she chose to make an appearance at all," Frore elaborated, a note of disapproval coloring his voice.

"I'll see to her later. Irene never fails a task once she has set her mind to it, and I would be confused if settling some trivial provincial disturbance thwarted her penchant for achieving her goal."

His emperor's tone was distracted, Frore noted, and his next question explained why. "Has Madra exited the palace grounds?"

"No, Your Majesty. But it is becoming apparent that she grows tired of her station. The woman is old."

Zeref nodded. "You have served me well, Frore. I would offer you a vacation if I could, but unfortunately I must ask you to hold your position indefinitely."

Frore manually smoothed his brow and inclined his head respectfully. "It would be an honor, Your Majesty."

...

"He's a darling boy, and I care for babies quite alot, but I must get back to my own grandchildren now. My daughter has a trip scheduled today and I must watch her little girl for her, in addition to-"

"I'm aware of your duties, Madra." Zeref's voice was smooth but underlaid with iron. "However, you will not be leaving the palace grounds until I find a replacement for you. It may take me a day or so."

Suddenly sensing the prickling awareness of another's immense magical aura, Zeref recognized the signature of the one who bore it and paused, ear cocked for the sound of marked footsteps approaching them unhurriedly.

"Hello, Irene," he addressed the interloper disinterestedly, turning to face her. Only one who knew the marginally differing variations of his voice well could detect the testy undertone in it.

"Hello, Your Majesty," Irene Belserion murmured, her velvety voice dripping with charm. She was without her customary wizard's staff, content with her magical abilities and nifty wit alone. If the Black Wizard and the Scarlet Despair went head to head in a battle of strength, the latter would prove to be a challenge for Zeref to defeat, though he would triumph and they both knew it.

Madra shrunk from the tall redhead, sensing the sinister spirit of the woman and deciding she wasn't to be trusted. Zeref had a habit of cloaking his power; such was not the case with Irene. Sash hanging from her curvy hips, boldly adorned with the Alvarez crest, she wore little else on the lower half of her body save for a pair of thigh-tall black tights and matching high-heeled boots. A cape flowed behind her, the outfit complementing her thick crimson braids and charismatically imperious personality. A small smirk played on her pink lips as she studied her emperor thoughtfully.

"I've heard rumors throughout the nation of your return, Your Majesty. But when I arrived, I heard yet more murmurings about a different matter entirely. I sought you out because I didn't want to grace them with the benefit of the doubt, but I see I may have been wrong."

Unimpressed, Zeref met her tip-tilted mauve gaze with his calm black one. "Yes?"

"Come now, surely they can't be true. You spawned a progeny?"

"Why do you sound so surprised?" Amusement edged his voice, but had he been a few centuries less jaded his face would've spontaneously combusted into an endearing shade of pink at her blunt inquiry.

"It seems to counteract the very essence of your personality, if I may presume to make such a statement," she observed, reciprocating his amusement. "But since I could not help but overhear your conversation with the infant's senile nurse, I came to make you a proposition."

Zeref absorbed the sly words silently. A moment passed, before his expression hardened as he inferred their meaning and foresaw the next statement she would make.

_"No,_ Irene."

"Come now, you haven't heard my proposal yet. It would only be temporary, while you found a nanny for the child. I give my word I'll be on my best behavior," she assured, her uncharacteristically cajoling speech balanced by a smile intended to placate an unreasonable troublemaker.

Her emperor watched her unresponsively, warily wondering what self-serving reason she possessed to be interested in caring for his baby. Ultimately deciding not to look a gift horse in the mouth, he chose to accept her fortuitous offer. Irene was unruly and had a provoking habit of crossing the line of insolence with him, admittedly, but they had shared a certain level of trust since the day he'd found her hiding from the world in a forest where he often did the same. If she wanted to babysit a day old infant, it was up to her discretion whether to do an efficient job or face his wrath should anything go south.

"Very well," Zeref allowed evenly, wiping the smile from Irene's aesthetic face.

Remembering Madra, whom had hung back while the two wizards settled their differences, he took a moment to dismiss her. She went to pack her belongings gratefully while he made a mental note to arrange for the healer to receive double the pay he had promised.

Turning back to Irene, he continued, "His suite is beyond that door. Assuming your capabilities can keep pace with your pretension, I won't question your caregiving skills. However, if I am dissatisfied in the slightest with your treatment of my son-"

Daring to cut him off, Irene bowed her head in a gesture of submission, the tips of her thickly corded braids brushing her thighs as she did so. "I won't fail you, Your Majesty."

...

Approaching the crib gradually, Irene allowed curiosity to consume her hesitancy as she neared the small form of Emperor Spriggan's son. Peering at the sleeping infant's face, she faltered at the innocence of it, weakness and vulnerability displayed for all who might decide to do him harm. The fact that there were certain villains who would jump on this opportunity to slay the defenseless heir to the Alvarez Empire kindled an aberrant feeling of consternation in her forgotten heart.

Reaching towards the baby slowly, she was mildly surprised when his eyes opened, and their remarkable similarity to Zeref's made her breath catch. Tiny limbs performed a full-body stretch on the light blue sheet before his face scrunched in reaction to the figure looming over him. Opening his mouth, a shockingly loud howl emanated from his little chest. Picking the babe up quickly, it occured to Irene that she hadn't asked Zeref for his name and had no idea what to murmur to soothe this distraught miniature human. He was frightiningly light and so _small..._ She deduced that he must have been born fairly recently.

Slowly stroking him as she cradled his body in a delicately firm grip, the enchantress frowned as his cries only increased in frequency and volume. It was as though the baby was specifically reacting to her magical-

It was then that she felt him flex his supernatural presence, and though it was miniscule compared to her own, his sheer power took her by surprise. Never before had she encountered so strong an aura in so young a wizard. Considering her emperor's prowess, she couldn't say she was surprised, but she bet the child's mother was tantamount to his father in magical potential.

Reminded by his constant squirming and the ringing in her ears that he was still awake and screaming, Irene decided she'd had enough of that for the moment. "Enchantment: Sleep," she commanded, and watched as the newborn's eyelids drooped. Hoping Zeref hadn't been an observer to her questionable method of calming his son, she decided to feed the baby some formula the next time he awoke and attempt to convince him that she wasn't to be feared.

Absorbing the unfamiliar—yet pleasant—sensation of holding a pathetic creature entirely dependent on her alone, she stood studying his features. The blond hair certainly wasn't courtesy of Emperor Spriggan's genetics, so it must be indicative of the mother's appearance. Looking at the perfectly formed ears, chin, and nose, she recognized characteristics both familiar and foreign to her emperor. The child was unquestionably his, and for whatever reason she was feeling starting to feel oddly protective of him.

It was merely because Zeref's wrath was something to be feared, she convinced herself, refusing to admit there was a more personal reason for her maternal fondness of the baby. Perhaps she'd offered to look after him in her own longing to have a child of her own. Technically, she already did, but she couldn't bring herself to lift the spell she'd cast centuries ago to freeze the fetus's development in her womb. The time was never right, and over the years the life she retained had become a deeply guarded secret.

As she watched the peaceful repose of the newborn she cradled to her chest, some latent part of her drank in the sensation like a desert welcoming a gentle spring rain.

...

Wandering the castle, Zeref attempted everything he could think of to divert his attention from what lay beyond the door of his suite. He conferred with Frore, instructed his head architect on the intricacies of design for a remodel of one of the palace's many cylindrical towers, and paid a visit to his extensive library.

The latter was by far his favorite place in Vistarion, and he'd personally designed it to hold bookshelves sixteen feet high. Nearly everything about the spacious room was personalized, which resulted in the finished product being conspicuously modest. A concession had been made for the marble floor, which Frore hadn't been able to resist overseeing the installation of. Thick, medieval-patterned carpeting muffled his footsteps, depicting fantastic scenes of ancient dragons at war with humanity. Such tales were gradually being relegated to myth, but Zeref had been witness to their destruction firsthand. The decor was a reminder of his vacillating quest for power.

Looking up at his vast collection of ancient tomes, manuals and encyclopedias, garnered during his fascination with magic, Zeref sighed inaudibly. He supposed he should be glad of some free time to work on his latest creation, an Etherious demon who would wield the capability of a new form of supernatural power that didn't reside in magic or require ethernano—one who would surpass the power of every demon he had written so far. He excepted Natsu in that comparison, the part of him that saw his brother as a human ruling out the side that saw him merely as a creation to be used.

Trying to get back on track with his thinking processes, Zeref determined that his inspiration for writing his latest demonic book was running low. He doubted he would be able to concentrate, regardless. His usual antidote for boredom involved endless studies of books and magic, channeling his creativity and indulging his inventive side with the morbid creation of a plethora of demons. But this wasn't mere boredom.

It was an addiction. A consuming, destructive obsession with something he couldn't have—the one thing he'd desperately sought that had always eluded him: love.

Grateful for the heavy curtains blocking most of the sunlight from beaming into the darkened room, Zeref sank into a plush armchair and stared at the sooty coals in the unlit fireplace.

It was difficult to believe that he had only arrived in his capital the day before, carrying Mavis and their unborn son. It seemed like an eternity ago, which was peculiar because time had always seemed to flow smoothly. There had been little but misery to mark the years and decades that slipped by, yet the past year had been different. For all the painful moments, he had also experienced the closest feeling to peace he had ever known.

The wondering thought gave way as an inexplicable unease began churning through Zeref's gut. A sudden visit of clairvoyance caused him to sit bolt upright in his chair, wondering if his sanity truly was deteriorating. When the feeling didn't pass after a minute or two, he realized it may not be one of the untrustworthy impulses he was forever ignoring and stood to soothe his worry by checking on the person who was most likely causing it.

Teleporting outside his door, he laid his hand on it, suddenly impatient to be inside as the magic relinquished itself to his ability. Within the study, the lacrimas appeared exactly as he'd left them. Mavis's body was still, save for her quiet breathing. He'd been mistaken, then. Staring at the screen for a moment longer, however, he saw something that justified his intuitive unease.

Her eyelids were fluttering.

It was such a small movement that Zeref hastily blinked and took another look to be certain he wasn't hallucinating, bracing his hands on the desk as he watched the projected feed closely. His heart pulsed erratically, adrenaline releasing into his bloodstream as he saw the delicate lids flutter again. Then Mavis turned her head slightly, the movement incremental but unmistakable to the one who watched her with bated breath.

Expelling the air from his lungs, he straightened. Conflicting desires and possibilities assaulting him from all angles of his intellect, he fought a war within his mind of whether or not to go to her. One convincing voice warned that if he were to walk past that door, all shred of hope that Mavis would survive would be stripped away the moment his curse claimed her life for good. Another argued that if he stayed away, he would only be delaying the inevitable as his sanity corroded until he eventually gave in to his desire to see her. Either way, he was fucked. The only option that survived the barrage of doubts and confliction was making the seemingly logical decision to see her now.

Now, while he was still in control of his emotions. _But am I?_ he second-guessed himself. On the screen, Mavis's face contorted in rising distress as she shifted again. The realization of how cruel his desire to see her live hit him like a wave in the face as he observed her discomfort. It was his will to die, yet here he was forcing her to remain alive for him merely because he could not achieve that goal. Keeping out of her room in an effort to ensure she was unharmed was another example of his selfishness. He groaned as the pain of the alternative churned through his emotions, shutting his eyes to the recurring headache thrumming to life in his temples. Their conversation on the deck of the ship that dark night haunted his memory.

_She must die. No, she must live._

Zeref had grown utterly exhausted of the merry-go-round his curse continually strapped him to. Making a fist, he relaxed it and strode to the door, uncertain of just what he would do when he entered her room.

All he knew was the inexorable pull of fate inevitably lured him into the same trap time and time again, with Mavis as bait.

...

The pigeon landed on her arm noiselessly, taloned claws digging into bare skin to imprint eight red welts. She didn't notice, intent on retrieving the conspicuous role of paper fastidiously tied to the fowl's slender leg. A few lines were scrawled in an untidy hand, barely legible to most but appreciated by the educated for its obscurity in the case of enemy infiltration:

_Target arrived in capital yesterday with charge. Sources claim an old midwife delivered a child from the girl, same day. Wire final payment of jewel ASAP._

The paper crumpled noiselessly in her damp palm, and she released the slender bird into a nearby cage for future use. He had been travelling with a companion? She paced restlessly, wondering at the authenticity of her spy's information before determining that it mattered not.

She would track Zeref down, sooner or later. One way or another, he would pay the price of his sins in full. The augmented sealstone bracelets she'd commissioned—those that distorted a wizard's will to live and their level of pain in addition to suppressing their magical capabilities—would see to it. With his infamous power vacant, as well as his curse, he would be fully subject to mortality.

And she would be more than willing to dish up a serving of slow, painful torture.

_**AN:** I must admit, I took pleasure in writing Irene's dialogue. Her character is yet another I must add to the list of "they-were-definitely-cool-enough-to-deserve-a-happy-ending" in Fairy Tail. Larcade, on the other hand, was not my favorite concept in canon and therefore doesn't get more than a mention. I feel for his fans, especially with how his life ended, but sorry...writer's liberties._


	14. Chapter 14: Cruel To Be Kind

Hearing the heavy door click shut behind him with a dull _thud_, Zeref made his way across the expansive room to the nymph-like girl on his bed. She appeared to be on the cusp of consciousness, muscles twitching in response to her mental unrest. As he stood looking down at her, he was forced to admit he was losing the paradoxical fight inside his head, unable to bring himself to love her. Fear made him weak with reluctance, and reluctance was the father of inaction.

However, when he made up his mind after long moments of guilt and indecision, a calm feeling settled over his mind despite the self-proclaimed narcissism of his choice. He wasn't kind, and simply because Mavis possessed an opposite opinion was no reason to live up to her expectations.

The subject of his focus felt the shadows being gradually chased away as she teetered between succumbing to a deep, inescapable sleep and waking to the harsh light of the world around her. She wasn't aware of how she was certain there was a world to wake to, it was merely an inescapable _knowledge_—and at times she was uncertain as to whether she was fighting to join it or to flee it. There was urgency behind both endeavors, but why that was and what her exact reasons were, she was too tired to attempt to discern. Slowly drifting into consciousness without willing to do so, she cringed, and it didn't occur to her at the moment to wonder why her facial muscles contracted in correlation to the impulses they received from her brain.

Trying to turn her head, she cried out as a sharp pain pinched her neck, her atrophied tendons protesting the sudden use. Not attempting to move the rest of her body, she tried to open her eyes instead. This effort was met with slightly less resistance, but the world was too blurry to make out any definitive shapes.

A gentle hand suddenly touched her shoulder. She didn't move, focusing on the novel sensation of pressure. Then, it was lifting her, sliding beneath her back to hold her upper body up long enough to firmly situate a pillow behind it. Warmed clothing belonging to whoever was leaning over her brushed against the side of her face, and she inhaled a nostalgic scent deeply before it was replaced by cool, empty air. Mindful fingers closed over her wrist to lift her hand and place it atop the sheet. The movement felt strange, and she gasped at the texture of the fabric against her hypersensitive bare skin. She breathed the air, held it in her lungs, released it—her body was obeying her commands.

The helpful touch was gone, and Mavis squinted until the details of the room gradually became clear. The furniture was sleek and gray, and while she was in the midst of wondering whether she had ever seen the likes of it before she was distracted by a dull, burning itch across the lower half of her stomach. Jerking her arm towards it instinctively, she stilled when the warm hand from before covered her own.

"You shouldn't move for now," came a smooth male voice that was so familiar she couldn't readily place it.

Inching her head to the side, she blinked as the face belonging to the speaker came into focus. She tried to speak, but her vocal cords wouldn't produce the syllables painstakingly formed by dry lips.

Memory rushed back to her, bits and particles of it whirring through her mind too quickly to piece together. But, gradually, she remembered. The countless days of travel, the voyage in the schooner, arriving at Vistarion, Zeref's tear-filled eyes, the intensely bright agony ripping her to shreds, the baby-

Choking, she gasped out his name, voice rusty from disuse. "Zeref?"

"I'm here, Mavis," he soothed, but he had removed his hand from hers. It felt cold without his warmth.

_Why is his face so dreadfully still? What happened?_ "I'm- in my body—it-"

"It worked," he nodded.

Horror filled her at what was left unsaid, and she struggled to voice it. "Th-the baby-"

"Alive and well," he instantly calmed her fears, not a trace of his thought processes showing.

Tears of relief overflowed her lids to saturate her cheeks, the strangeness of being unable to see through the moisture in her eyes causing her chest to spasm with a hoarse giggle. Her upper body felt heavy, lungs struggling to draw air properly.

"A boy?" she asked.

Zeref nodded gently. "As beautiful a boy as I've ever seen."

Mavis shook with more laughter at his subtle boasting and teased breathlessly, "I'm sure you're only...saying that...because he's yours."

"Possibly."

They shared a brief smile, before Zeref stood abruptly. "You're suffering from muscular atrophy as well as magic deficiency syndrome, but the fact that you are alive is proof of the constancy of the curse. Your restorative powers will be slow to return, I'd wager, but when they do you should be back to the state you were in a year ago. Consider that a blessing or a curse."

She studied his impassive face, puzzled. Of course she would count it as a blessing, if it meant she could be with her family. But beyond the simple gladness lurked dark memories, death waiting to surface at an opportune moment to remind her of all she had lost as a result of the day she met the infamous Black Wizard Zeref.

Keeping her gaze on his blank obsidian eyes, she asked softly, "How are you?"

The simple words held a wealth of understanding and concern, but they failed to move Zeref. He could not hurt her, and any feelings he experienced that could counteract that rule must be quenched. "Fairly well," he replied neutrally. "And you?"

Smothering an exasperated feeling, Mavis shifted her eyes to the sheet covering her body. "I feel fine," she lied. Her abdomen was throbbing from the partially healed incision, her throat was dry, a dull ache was flaring to life in her temples and a similar one was more long-term from the constant pressure in her tender breasts. But besides trivial physical discomfort was the hopeless feeling that hearing Zeref sound so lifeless instilled in her. She wouldn't concern him with herself.

His eyes narrowed at her silence as he perused her suspiciously, but she diverted him. "Zeref, I need to get up to-"

"No, you don't," he stated imperiously, and her eyes widened. Something about him had definitely changed. Perhaps it was only due to his resumed station as Emperor of Alvarez, but she had a sinking feeling it was more than that. Frustration flickered again, but she suppressed it and risked a glance at his face. At the signs of strain and insomnia she saw etched onto its youthful features, her heart softened.

"I want to see our son."

"Fortunately for you, I have a lacrima recording every aspect of his life. If you would like, I could bring it to you, but you aren't leaving this bed until you've recovered."

Suddenly feeling exhausted, she verbalized her consent instead of nodding, not wishing to strain her already aching muscles. As he left the room, the door opening like a sealed gate to a vault, she blinked tiredly. Eyes falling shut before she could force them to stay open, the beckoning nothingness of sleep pulled her under like a riptide.

Returning with the lacrima, Zeref fought the redundant battle of retaining his indifference. He would have to leave soon. Prolonged exposure to Mavis's disarming company wasn't wise, and the last thing he wanted was to lose his hard-won control. He'd only stepped out for a moment, but when he returned he froze at the sight of her head hanging to the side, despite the odd angle caused by the rest of her body being propped up against the pillows.

Irrational panic made him drop the lacrima on the lower half of the bed and reach for her face, cupping her satiny cheek in an effort to wake her as quickly as possible. Terror of losing her again, prompted by the sight of her closed lids and lax mouth, imbued his efforts with a little more force than he'd intended. Her eyes opened wincingly, meeting his own with a groggy look as she vaguely wondered why he was holding her with such desperation.

Zeref retained her face between his hands, and at the sight of her cognizant green irises he felt relief flood his body. Shifting his gaze to her lips, he was caught off-guard by an impetuously dangerous urge to kiss them, remembering how he'd done just that mere hours ago. Suddenly aware of how close they were, and that Mavis was holding her breath as a wash of color swept up her pale cheeks, he swallowed and forced himself to pull away. The sheet had fallen off her shoulders, baring their delicately narrow framework. Madra apparently hadn't dressed her, save for the bandage wrapped around her waist.

"Are you alright?" she asked tentatively, wondering why Zeref was pointedly looking away from her as his hands trembled.

"Fine," he answered simply, not knowing how to explain his foolish fear or precipitous desire to her. Reaching for the lacrima, he situated and activated it, standing by the side of her bed though there was plenty of room on it for the both of them. He sensed that Mavis wanted to mention this, but instead wisely held her tongue as the nursery came into view.

Late afternoon sun poured through the windows, illuminating the pale blue walls of the room. Sitting in a rocking chair by one such window was a mature, and very sensual, redhead with long legs negligently crossed. In her arms was a sleeping infant, tiny fists curled against his chin as he subconsciously mimicked a sucking motion with his pursed mouth. Mavis stared in spellbound awe.

Suppressing a surge of pride at the sight of his own flesh and blood, Zere glanced down at Mavis, thinking it odd that she wasn't making a noise. Heart jolting when he saw fierce love battle with fear on her rapidly paling face, he switched off the lacrima immediately. "What's wrong?" he asked quietly.

She didn't answer, her face blank, as though her mind was in a different time and place entirely. He tried again: "Is it Irene?"

Snapping out of her stupor, Mavis asked, "W-what?"

"Did you recognize the woman holding him? She has a somewhat fearful reputation throughout the western continent, but I hadn't thought it extended to Ishgar."

"No, no," Mavis said distractedly, shaking her head and wincing at the resulting stab of pain in her neck. "It's nothing. He's...so beautiful, and cute. You weren't exaggerating. I don't-"

She had been about to say_ I don't deserve him,_ but bit off the words before they could leave her lips. Zeref watched her silently.

"When was he born, exactly?" she asked, anxious to change the topic and genuinely curious about how long she had been out of it.

"Yesterday morning," he replied, "which would be the 30th of August."

Mavis absorbed this information, shifting against the itchy feeling of the hair against her back. Her stomach throbbed dully, reminding her of the precious life she no longer carried. She wouldn't mind the scar at all, if it was a memento from her son.

Zeref broke the silence. "You know, in retrospect...I find it odd that we never settled on a name for the baby."

Looking up at him quickly, she cast about for an answer as guilt flared to life in her chest once more. "We didn't?"

"I don't know about you, but I have virtually no experience with children, and that extends to naming them. Would you do the honors?"

She gulped. "Well—that really has nothing to do with how good at it you would be. And, uh, it's a really important matter. Since I'm new at this too, why don't we wait a bit until the right name comes to us?"

Astutely gauging her anxiety, he briefly wondered what could be causing it. "Of course," he answered, careful to keep his tone casual.

Mavis frowned as conflicting desires made her both long for and cringe away from what she had always wanted. "I wish I could hold him," she breathed, unaware that she had spoken out loud. Zeref turned away, face downcast as her wish affected him more than he could admit.

"You know why you can't," he reminded her quietly.

"Of course," she hastily corrected herself. "Just a stupid wish."

"One we both have in common."

Trying to read his empty eyes and failing, she questioned, "You haven't...?"

"Touched him? Absolutely not." He shifted his weight, sounding mildly horrified.

"I'm sorry," she said simply, inadequacy making the words awkward.

"We're treading on dangerous water with our very presence in this palace, Mavis. Neither of us is to be within fifty feet of him at all costs. I know you understand."

"Yes," she answered sadly, her face falling. She understood more than she would like. The fact that Zeref was being so distant wasn't lifting her spirits, but she couldn't bring herself to blame him. He was thinking in contradictory terms thanks to the Curse of Contradiction, whereas her magic was still relatively exhausted and she was granted a temporary respite from the clouded haze of contradictory thinking for a while longer. _That isn't right_, she thought in puzzlement. _The curse affects far more than simply the part of you that deals with magic. Your very emotions are also afflicted. I don't doubt I'll succumb to the curse's confusion soon, after I've had it long enough._

"You should rest now," Zeref cut into her thoughts, his tone kind but impersonal. "I'll help you get comfortable."

Suddenly shy, Mavis didn't move as he leaned over her prone body, manipulating it to lie further down the bed and leveling the pillows at her back. Noticing her nakedness beneath the sheet for the first time, she felt vulnerable as the silk material slipped over the tips of her breasts.

"Comfortable?" Zeref murmured, straightening the sheet to carefully tuck it around her. She barely heard the question, watching his lips move as they formed the word. Swallowing, her head nodded perfunctorily.

"I'm really not sleepy," she explained. When he didn't answer, she looked away to blush violently as she eventually realized the unintentional sexual connotation of the words.

"Nonetheless, you need to recover," Zeref found his voice, turning away from her quickly.

"What about you?" she asked, trying not to sound forlorn.

"I'll return later." And the door sealed shut behind the flutter of his robes. Too enervated to turn over, she felt hot rivulets of tears burn her temples before they were collected by her hair.

...

Trying to banish the image of Mavis's lonely eyes and failing utterly, Zeref exhaled slowly as he walked to the library. He needed time to think. Taking in the beauty of the waning light of the sunset striking the endless shelves of his bookcases, he walked over to the sofa and lay down wearily. With his luck, Frore would probably happen across him and demand to know why the one and only Emperor Spriggan was passed out on a common sofa, as though in exile from his own bedroom.

He was starting to deeply miss the open freedom of nature, and wondered if Mavis did as well. As he began feeling how much he missed her, a pang of longing was quickly chased away by determined indifference. She couldn't afford his love, but nonetheless she had him hooked on an unrelenting line. Unable to fall asleep, he lay awake watching the shadows until dawn arrived to chase them away.

Several walls away in the massive palace lay the girl with a passion for fairies and sunlight, staring at the darkening ceiling high above her bed as she tried in vain to get comfortable. Physical and mental peace alluded her, fragments of memories haunting her with what was once within her grasp. Her friends, Zeref...their baby. She tried to remind herself that those things were still waiting for her, if only she could break their wretched curse and reclaim her life, but her somber mood remained unconvinced.

Twisting again, she huffed in pain and heartache. Her need for Zeref was driving her into a depression, she realized helplessly. Remembering long hours they'd spent before drifting off to sleep, talking and relating, she wished for a second that he was next to her. Wherever he was, she feared there was nothing to drive away the demons clawing for his soul. He had changed, and not for the better.

...

The next morning, Mavis's passage into unconsciousness was far more pleasant than it had been the previous day. Trying to sit up impulsively, she was reminded by the heaviness in her limbs that Zeref had told her to take it easy. After a brief moment of consideration, during which she reasoned that the definition of "recovered" fit her current state fairly well, she lifted the sheet and prepared to swing her feet over to the hardwood floor.

Halting as a draft of cool air caused goose bumps to stand out on her bare skin, she gave a little shriek as she saw the sheet had fallen to her hips, reminding her she was wearing absolutely nothing except for the tight bandage wrapping her stomach. Casting her eyes about for something she could use to cover herself, she saw a surveillance lacrima situated in the corner of the room and clutched the sheet around her body. Hearing the door beginning to open, she lay down again quickly, both relieved and annoyed to see Zeref again.

"I brought you some clothing," he explained mildly, holding a folded piece of fabric in one hand. "It was made to match your measurements by the servants."

Having nearly forgotten where she was, she blinked at his mention of the palace. "Thanks," she cheerfully reached for the clothing, "but how did they know my measurements?" Her tone was curious.

Holding the dress just barely out of her reach, Zeref answered, "By blowing the image of your body up to lifelike proportions and measuring it with three-dimensional technology." Mistaking her look of excited interest for one of shock, he added, "A woman did it, if that is of any comfort to you."

Suppressing a laugh, she smiled at his quizzical look and dropped the sheet impulsively. Surprised by her own boldness as her face was ravaged by a familiar crimson heat, she was rewarded with the sight of Zeref's body tensing as he immediately jerked his gaze from her full chest to stare at her face indignantly.

"Shouldn't have brought me the dress yourself," she teased playfully, raising her arms so he could slip the garment over her shoulders. He did so, careful not to let his fingers come in contact with her bare skin as he gently worked the dress over her body. Moving away from Mavis as soon as possible, he extended his hand. Bodily contact was rather unavoidable at this point. True, he could've sent a servant into his chambers to take care of her, but the very same force that demanded he spare her from his presence also pushed him to seek her out. Upsetting her through exposure to a foreigner when her last memories of common society had not been pleasant ones wasn't kind, either.

Putting her small hand in his, Mavis crawled out of the bed clumsily, leaning unsteadily on Zeref's forearms as she fought for balance. His chest looked inviting, so she nuzzled her nose into it for added stability.

"Do you have a library?" she asked, voice muffled by his toga, trying to divert them both from the pull of the moment while simultaneously indulging in the simple pleasure of being close to him.

"Yes," he answered with difficulty, stepping away from her and ensuring she wouldn't fall before disengaging his forearms from her tenuous grip. "And no, you can't visit it yet."

At her disappointed pout, he elaborated, "Stay in my chambers for now. There are plenty of books in the other room, which I have a feeling you'll be intrigued by."

"Yes, sir," she said meekly, and Zeref's lips almost twitched. Staring at the smooth skin of her neck and the small wings of her collarbones, exposed by the becoming fashion of the Alakitasian dress she was wearing, his momentary lightheartedness faded as he felt the curse looming beneath his cool façade. Turning from her, he made to leave before he could convince himself to stay.

A small hand on his sleeve made him stop in his tracks, and he looked down at Mavis in bemusement. "I wanted to ask you about the woman taking care of our baby," she asked innocently.

When it worked and he didn't pull away, she gave a small sigh of relief, glad her excuse had worked. For some reason she was reluctant to be alone, feeling vulnerable and bored in the aftermath of recent events.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Zeref folded his arms and began, "Her name is Irene Belserion. Several decades ago, I came across a Dragon Slayer in draconic form, taking refuge in an uncivilized area. Seeing she was actually a human, I enchanted her appearance back into her true body—the way she had looked before the dragon seed overtook her. Since that day, she has believed herself to be indebted to me. I built upon her inventory of Enchantments until she had surpassed my knowledge, and in return we exchanged theories of magic and she taught me what she knew. Although Irene can be a bit irreverent at times, her story is a sad one."

"Is that why you enlisted her help in caring for your son?" Mavis asked curiously.

"No, that was her idea," he explained. "She is something of an enigma. It's not my place to pry."

Mavis inclined her head, looking down at Zeref's boots and comparing their size to her own bare feet. "I've noticed you changed your clothes," she mentioned, referring to his white and gold toga and fresh black tunic.

"Courtesy of my second in command, Frore," Zeref smiled. "Befitting an emperor, are they not?"

She nodded, before remarking, "They add to your formality, though, and hide that locket you always wear. Zeref, I need to know..."

"Yes?" The word was wary.

"Why have you been treating me with such neutral politeness? You won't get close to me, and it's as though I'm a glass doll. I was thinking about it, and ever since that night on the ledge...you changed."

As she saw his expression go blank, she hurried on. "Are you afraid of hurting me? Is it the curse? Because if that's the case-"

Rising to his feet, Zeref raised a silencing hand, and Mavis experienced a sense of intimidation she was certain was similar to what his subjects felt when they displeased him. "I must go now."

"No, wait. I didn't mean to upset you. We can talk about this!"

He didn't answer, turning his back on her as he exited the room. "Enjoy the chambers, dear Mavis."

Staring after him despondently for a moment, Mavis shook herself from her hesitancy and attempted a wobbling step forward. Steadying herself by laying a hand on the bed, she eventually regained her equilibrium and was able to walk on her own, albeit slowly due to her weakened muscles. Passing through the door Zeref had left open, she took in the sight of the spacious room adjacent to the one she'd just left. It appeared to be a study, though an exact description of it would be ambiguous to a variety of rooms—library, living quarters, control room.

Looking up at the vaulted ceiling with parted lips, she glanced around her to absorb the tasteful opulence of the room, similar to that of the bedchamber. Tempted to smile at the inlaid bookcases spaced at asymmetrical intervals on the walls, she admired the beautifully carved woodwork of the coffee table and the soft plush carpet pushing up through her bare toes. Looking down at them and wiggling her feet, she was pleased to see her motor skills had improved. Realizing Zeref hadn't given her a pair of shoes, she was warmed by his remembrance of such a small quirk of her personality. Though, perhaps to him it was blatant.

Passing his desk with a longing glance at the lacrima that had displayed her baby's room, but unready to observe him again, she saw the closed door and guessed that a magic seal had been placed on it for her own protection. She was correct in that assumption, and sighed silently. Walking in her body after months of floating and feeling the tactile presence of everything around her was strange. She had quite literally forgotten how to feel.

Green plants were conspicuously absent from the room, and the spaces between the tall windows where one would ordinarily find them were filled with tasteful artwork instead. The observation instilled Mavis with a lingering sadness, for she was fairly certain that the room would be filled with life were it not for Zeref's curse. He had the naturally inquisitive personality usually considered conducive to botany.

Spotting a strange-looking wooden structure in the corner of the room, she grasped the handle of its cover and lifted it to reveal a row of shining black and white ivory keys. Instantly recognizing the instrument as a true-to-life piano, Mavis reverently pressed one of the keys and was rewarded with a singular musical note. Suddenly feeling guilty, she retracted her hand and sat on the bench slowly. Before, it was only a ghost of a thought, but now it bluntly occured to her that she had only scratched the surface of Zeref's persona. There was more about him to discover than she'd felt was possible, and she had a feeling much of it was darker than hidden talents.

...

Watching the incandescent display of the lacrima thoughtfully, Zeref saw Mavis's childlike curiosity in exploring his study. When the sight filled him with pointless regret for the impersonal way he had treated her, he shifted his gaze to the other scene—that of Irene attempting to coax a squalling newborn into drinking the formula she had prepared.

Involuntarily smiling at the incongruity of the image, he sighed as he realized the inevitable and planned to go have a talk with her.

She agreed to meet with him later that afternoon, in a room adjacent to his son's nursery. "Yes, Your Majesty?"

"Irene," he sighed, the word spoken both in praise and criticism.

"If this is about the child's temperament-"

"He hates you," Zeref stated flatly.

"-then let me say that it will take a week or so to coerce him to bond with me."

"All this emotional disturbance is nonconducive to his development, I'm certain. I wish to find a professional nurse."

"Come now," she cut in cajolingly. "Give me a month, Your Majesty. I can make him agreeable towards me."

"By what means?" Zeref asked coolly, not buying it.

"I'll find a way. You know first-hand how stubborn I can be," she intoned convincingly.

He could understand why Frore was so distraught with his Shields' familiar treatment of him. But he discovered he couldn't truly be upset with Irene, deciding instead to allow her some time with which to try and win his son's heart.

"One week," he granted tonelessly. A small smile of victory perked her lips, and she bowed ostentatiously.

Pressing her luck, she ventured, "I see you've been somewhat preoccupied of late, Your Majesty."

At his lack of response, she added, "It couldn't have anything to do with a certain girl, could it?"

"What constitutes your concern?" he countered calmly.

"I find it amusing to see you so forlorn over a mere mortal. Good heavens, Your Majesty—if the damsel means so much to you, take her and put an end to your angst."

Brow darkening incrementally, Zeref warned quietly, "Irene."

With a sigh, she conceded. "Very well. I believe I have an infant to get back to, so if you'll excuse me..."

Glossy red braids swinging, she took her leave of the troubled wizard.

...

A brisk knock pulled Mavis from the book of Alakitasian history she was absorbed in. Reluctantly setting it aside, she lifted her head to bid the intruder to come in. The door opened before she could do so, and a servant stood in the doorway of the room, bearing a tray of delicacies. Beside her was the wizard who had opened the seal, a formally dressed young man who looked as though the only thing he was lacking was a pair of glasses.

Surprise giving way to horror at the first time she'd been around others in over a year, Mavis tripped over herself to back away.

"It's alright, Milady," Frore hastily soothed. "We're here at His Majesty's request-"

"Stay away from me, please!" Mavis interrupted, fearing the curse would take effect and preparing to hold it off for as long as she could.

At a gesture from her superior, the maid set the tray on the table and curtsied, before rapidly backing out of the room. After bowing, the crisply dressed man did the same. The door closed and she was alone once more. Heart pounding with the aftereffects of adrenaline, Mavis went to the table unsteadily and took an inventory of the assorted foods and candies arranged cleverly on the tray. It was kind of them to prepare it, she thought, and decided not to let their effort go to waste by neglecting to sample the goodies. They were gourmet, as fine a quality as the sheets she had slept between the previous night, though after a bite or two her jaw was too tired to eat much more.

Reminded by her physical encounter with others of how long it'd been since she had last bathed, Mavis thought wistfully of a long, hot bath. However, at this point in her recovery that would almost certainly require assistance, so she postponed it until a later date. She could feel her magic power gradually beginning to restore, which meant her healing powers should be back in full force soon. Touching her stomach tentatively, she looked forward to not being in pain whenever she moved.

Remembering the people who had visited her, she tried to banish the faces of similar faces from her past._ Don't think about it; keep yourself occupied_, she thought, but the ghosts came to life. The circumstances—her body, her curse, being amongst others—were adding fuel to the trapped feeling that had become so familiar the previous year. Unable to pace, she shifted in her chair, trying to think of something other than what would've happened to those servants if her magic had been stronger.

At that moment, the door opened again without a knock, and she whirled to face it like a frightened rabbit. At the pained look in her eyes, Zeref crossed the room to her, almost forgetting himself for a moment as he asked, "What is the matter?"

"Just a few memories. Nothing, really. But besides that it's hard to walk and I miss being outside and I want a bath but I can't let them help me and-"

"I could help you with the last problem," he said without inflection.

Eyes widening, Mavis objected, "I don't want to h- "

"You couldn't hurt me if you tried, unfortunately."

She flinched at the last word. "Please don't say things like that, Zeref. Don't- don't be so dismissive of your life. Please."

Staring at her earnest expression, he turned away, regretting whatever impulse had prompted him to offer her help. She was too endearing.

"I would have killed those people, if I had been fully recovered," she said quietly. When he looked down at her, she continued. "Why aren't you...?"

"Ankhseram has been rather kind, of late."

"You mean you've lost your regard for life?" The words would have been considered accusatory if spoken by anyone else, but the sadness in her tone was unmistakable.

"It's not that simple," he countered swiftly.

To his relief, she dropped the matter, looking away wordlessly.

"Your aura is stronger," he noted, mildly impressed at her level of recovery in such a short amount of time. "Shall we get on with the bath?"

His tone was bland, completely devoid of innuendo, but she glanced up at him with a familiar color highlighting her cheekbones. "Sure...thank you."

As he helped her from the chair, she felt giddy, as though she was taking a touch too much of her favorite drug. It was a mystery to her, why Zeref had always been such a magnet. When she was fully on her feet, she didn't relinquish her grip of his hand on the pretense of needing his support for balance. The contact felt pleasing, and when he made no move to pull away she smiled to herself.

Leading her to the bedroom, he indicated an entrance that she hadn't explored yet, opposite the doorway that led to the study. "That is the bathing room, though perhaps 'sauna' is a more accurate description. I think you'll appreciate the hot tub."

"You have a hot tub?" Mavis asked, trying to keep the excitement from her voice.

"Yes," he smiled, vicariously appreciating her excitement. Realizing he was enjoying himself for the first time in a while, Zeref almost froze, but Mavis's hand in his kept his attention on the moment. Sometimes he wondered if the knowledge that he shouldn't be around her was precisely why he felt compelled to sidle closer. The curse made his own motives a mystery.

_**A/N:** There you are. I love feedback, so what do you think? _


	15. Chapter 15: Revelations

The lavishly built sauna was steaming, building an opaque veneer of condensation on the tiled porcelain floor. A large, inlaid tub bubbled with hot water, sending clouds of steam up into the air and eliciting a sigh of anticipation from Mavis.

"It's like a bathhouse!" she exclaimed, and during her companion's silence she took in the features of the room attentively. Realizing her clothing was all that was preventing her from stepping into the soothing water, she reached for the hem of her dress, but her weak arms tired before she could fully lift it over her body.

"Allow me," Zeref offered, and she willingly relinquished control of the garment to him, lifting her arms as he skillfully maneuvered it over her head. Her hair cascaded down her back as a result, brushing her calves but failing to cover the front of her body. Crossing her arms over her chest, Mavis stood feeling exposed as the steam clung to her skin. She risked a glance up at Zeref's face. He stood with a frown marring his forehead, and when she glanced down she perceived the reason. The bandage around her midriff was prominent, a reminder of the damage she had sustained.

When he knelt in front of her without warning, she startled. "Hey, um..."

Reaching between her back and hair for the end of the elastic, he peeled it back carefully. Mavis breathed a sigh of relief as it fell away, revealing a long, deep, freshly formed scab extending across the otherwise impeccable skin of her stomach. Suddenly awkward with embarrassment, she reached for the wound with the intention to cover it from his gaze—and froze as he caught her wrists in midair.

"Don't," he said softly. Blinking, she watched as he released her hands and went on, "I learned a bit of healing magic to pass the extensive exams in the Academy. An odd skill for a monster such as myself to have, but..."

Mavis was about to correct his opinion of himself when curiosity overrode her remark. Holding his hands over her abdomen, yet not quite touching her, Zeref was focusing his magic power into a healing force—the opposite of the damage it had frequently dealt throughout the last three centuries. When a magic seal appeared at his fingertips, the nostalgia of using the ancient spell both lifted and lowered his spirits. "Heilari," he murmured.

She sighed in pleasure as she felt the tendrils of warmth envelop her severed womb and abdominal wall, knitting the subcutaneous fat and dermal layers back together until what had previously been an obvious cut resembled a fresh red scar. Still, the gentle warmth didn't fade, nor did Zeref budge until the distorted tissue had progressed through various stages of healing and finally faded entirely. Ascertaining that the smooth skin of her stomach was flawless once more, he lowered his hands slowly, using them to push himself to his feet.

Looking up at his averted face, Mavis whispered sincerely, "Thank you. I didn't know you could do that."

"Until this moment, neither did I," he said flippantly, reaching for the knot of his toga.

Realizing her nudity as if for the first time, she flushed abashedly and forced her hands to remain lax at her sides. Determined not to ogle Zeref's body this time, she studied the surface of the water instead as he removed the rest of his clothing and folded it neatly. She looked away as she heard the quiet swish of the water being disturbed, and then his understanding voice sliced through the tension in the air. "Here, give me your hand."

Eager to sink into the merciful covering of the bath, she put one foot in, holding both of Zeref's flexing hands for balance as she clumsily slid into the blissfully hot water. "Ah..." she sighed contentedly, senses overwhelmed with the silken heat soothing her skin from every angle imaginable.

"Mavis," Zeref mentioned thickly, sounding flustered. "You're-"

Opening her eyes, she realized she had leaned against his chest in relaxation, pushing her breasts against him in the process. "Oh! I'm s- " Pushing away from him, she tripped backwards and would've unintentionally dunked herself if not for Zeref's steadying grasp of her shoulders.

"It's alright," he said in amusement. Biting her lip, she looked up at him apologetically. Around them, silky strands of her hair billowed in the bubbling water. Feeling lightheaded from the heat, Zeref drew her to his chest slowly, laying her head in the crook of his arm so he could submerge it into the water with care. Relaxing, Mavis enjoyed the sensation of what she had witnessed him do to her body dozens of times. Reaching for a bottle of shampoo by the side of the tub, he lathered her scalp gently, working the suds through her hair in predictable circular motions with the pads of his fingertips.

As her eyes drifted shut, Zeref was grateful she couldn't sense how much he desired her. In this close of a proximity to her naked, alert body, it was requiring a good deal of control to keep his movements fluid and natural. The hot water was refreshing, and he was reminded of just how long it had been since he'd last bathed.

Mavis enjoyed his ministrations, but the ghost of his cool treatment of her lingered in her mind despite—or perhaps because of—the purposefully light atmosphere between them. Feeling a wave of longing, she began thinking of ways to melt the seemingly impenetrable wall he had constructed.

Rinsing her hair carefully, Zeref loosened his grip on her as she struggled to stand. "I can't let you do all the work," she explained buoyantly.

Staring into her bright green eyes soberly, Zeref stood transfixed, his lips parting. Working up a foam of lather in her hands, she broke the moment by boldly spreading it across his lean chest, enjoying the firm dillineation of the musculature. Seizing up, his body didn't obey the command his brain issued until several _long_ seconds later. Stepping back from her quickly, as though in an ingrained response to a perceived danger, he didn't stop until he felt the tub's uncompromising wall pressing against his mid back.

Mavis submerged her hands beneath the surface of the water lapping at her chest, studying him with a quicksilver expression of both exasperation and distress. Looking like she wanted to say something, she closed her mouth as though thinking better of it. Zeref knew that it had been a mistake to get this close to her when a determined look replace the indecision in her face and she advanced towards him steadily.

"Mavis," he warned, stripping all nuance of emotion from his voice.

Stopping a foot away from him, she burst out, _"Why?!"_ It wasn't a premeditated question; it was merely the first word to spring to mind. It wasn't until after it had left her lips that Mavis realized how it could be interpreted as childish petulancy, but she barely gave the thought a split-second's contemplation.

Caught off-guard and needing to escape the dangerous intensity of her eyes, Zeref turned his head away to the side, staring at the rising steam from the tub as they conversed. "Why what?"

"Why do you keep pushing me away?" At his silence, she rushed on. "Of the seven reasons I determined you would have to do so, only one stands out to me—that you..."

Her aggression fading as quickly as it had flared. Losing the heart to continue, she dully watched the side of his profile, suddenly regretting her decision to confront him. He had gone ridged, battling his emotions as well as the curse.

"...you don't love me anymore," she finished in a small voice, unable to keep the tears from filling her eyes. He whipped his head around to face her at the words. Something flashed in his eyes, his demeanor—a volatile spark of warning, but his mask remained in place. "I don't blame you, Zeref. I don't even love-"

Zeref clapped his hand over her mouth before she could voice the horrible words. The mask was finally breaking. His face twisted with the raw, destructive emotion he had tried to hold back for so long.

_"Mavis!"_

It poured out of him with that one, incredulous word. "How could you think that? Don't you know-" he overrode the last fraction of rationality his mind presented, heedless to consequences as the freedom of finally being able to express his true self made him giddy "-how much I-"

Her wet eyes widening, she used both hands to frantically tug his palm from her mouth, intending to speak. He wasn't ready. As soon as she did so, he replaced it with his own, holding her head to his at an angle that forced it back on her shoulders. She made a small sound of surprise in her throat at the desperation of the kiss, tears dripping freely from her chin as she moved her lips in tandem to his. The addictive, curative power of the contact spread throughout each of them, and for a second Zeref was unable to believe he had stayed away from her for as long as he had.

Breaking away from her soft lips to come up for unnecessary, stupid air, he finished, "-love you." With a sob, Mavis threw her arms around his chest, holding his heart to hers heedlessly. The result was predictable. The bane of his life began to swirl, his worse nightmare manifesting itself in the form of deathly pulses of black insanity. When he felt his hated magic begin to thrum to life, he brought his hands to her small shoulders instantaneously, all color draining from his face. She wouldn't let go.

Above the fearful pounding of his heart, he heard her tremulous voice insist, "I said I would accept _all_ of you! I don't care if it hurts, or what you've done, or-"

_"I care!"_ he yelled, lost in a swirl of panic as his worst fear came to fruition. Dark, sinister magic, dancing around him to take the one he loved—holding her limp body in his arms—her lax face falling to the side—

Mavis didn't loosen her grip as she felt the Black magic descend on her in a cloud of pure evil, as though furious at her for loving the one who bore it. Zeref was in another place entirely, opened to his trauma as he lost all semblance of control. He should have known better than to think he could stop caring for her when it had been harder than anything he'd ever attempted. Every path had led to this end. But then, perhaps that was the reason he couldn't stay away from her—he was merely hastening the inevitable. He had never been capable of _staying away._

Feeling her own curse begin to activate as well, Mavis squeezed her eyes shut, absorbing the continual tremors running through the body of the man she held and letting his fluttering heartbeat be her anchor. The taste of fear never grew sweeter over time. A million emotions ghosted across her heart, squeezing and molding it as her chest suddenly felt tight. The air she didn't need to breathe to survive thinned out, and she sucked in large gulps of it to no avail. She couldn't live without him.

Except that she would.

And that was scarier than anything he could ever do to her. More than anyone, Mavis understood his fear. Slowly, she felt a sort of peace descend; the acceptance of one who had encountered fate again and again only to reap the same result. If this was how it would end, she would be happy to die in the arms of the one she loved. If this was the price for empathy, she would gladly pay it. With that thought in mind, she braced for the worst...and let out a slow breath when she realized, eventually, that the worst had already passed.

As the seconds ticked by, she felt Zeref gradually relax, his clenched body relinquishing its tension. They stood that way in the water for a minute longer, her thin arms still wrapped around his back. Feeling his pulse even to a heavier, more regular beat beneath her cheek, she shifted her head. She heard a quiet _swish_ of the water as he lifted his hands from it. Young arms closed around her slowly, hands resting on her back.

"I'm not dead," she whispered, the thought becoming a reality to her as she voiced it.

"No..." he murmured, a curious emotion lacing the word. "You're alive." His voice caught, and he grasped her shoulders, exerting pressure. This time, she let him disentangle their bodies to look up into his face. "I thought- When you didn't wake up, I thought-"

"Yes?" she asked, empathy filling her at the look on his face. It was too familiar, the pain ingrained in it wrenching her heart.

"I thought you'd- that you _knew_ and you—" a sob escaped him as he shook her.

Knew what? Realization of what he meant came to her gradually, but no less mercifully. Her face twisted. Her first thought was that there was nothing she could say that was adequate. That was disregarded in the face of a feeling too strong to be contained in words, and she did what only came naturally. "Zeref," she choked, reaching up to hold his face between her palms. "I could _never_ leave you!"

Swallowing, he said emptily, "I knew I shouldn't stop you, if you were to decide to. But I- I was _angry_, Mavis. I admit that if I had the choice, I would keep you with me forever. Denying you all right to rest."

At a shake of her head, he went on, his sudden calm giving way to desperation once more. Jolting her shoulders, he bored into her eyes in an effort to make her realize what a monster he was. The mask lay in shattered pieces on the floor. "Don't you understand? What kind of trust do I hold for you if I'd instantly assume you would abandon me? What kind of _love—"_

As he broke off on the word, Mavis finally found her voice. "You have it all wrong!" she cried, desperate to say something, anything, to eradicate that terrible look in his eyes. "I'm terrified for you, for the pain you must have felt when you thought I'd left you. But you've been forsaken by nearly everyone else in your life, so it was no fault of your own. You should know by now that there's nothing revolting enough you could do to me, no pain you could inflict or sentence me to that would make me hate you!" Cheeks flowing with incessant tears, she went on. "Whatever you think you did or are doing, Zeref, I forgive you."

She swayed beneath his grasp, and his grip gentled to a careful pressure on her shoulders, steadying her. "Mavis..." The fear had lessened somewhat, at the vehemence of her insistence. He tried to find the right words to voice his convictions. "You know I feel the same about you."

"Huh?"

"Nothing you have done, or will do, could make me hate you. But what I find odd is that if you and I are so alike, and we can forgive each other..."

"...then why can't we forgive ourselves?" she finished quietly, tiredly. Therein lay their contradiction. The water rippled in eddies away from them, silently refracting off the side of the tub.

"Yes," Zeref whispered plaintively.

"I think I may have the solution," Mavis suggested, a note of liveliness returning to her voice that was reminiscent of gentle sunlight after a rainstorm, and he looked at her. "I'll just have to love you, for as long as it takes you to love yourself." A strong cloud of death magic emphasized her statement, physically proving what she knew to be true in her heart. Yet, somehow, they weren't hurting each other. As if...it was blocked.

Overcome by her freely given acceptance and forgiveness, Zeref blinked away the tears distorting his vision and said, "I don't think think I'd want to stop loving you even then, Mavis."

They shared a watery smile, before it faded as their connected gaze became molten with a need that defied humor. There was nothing between them now; no walls, no lies, no fear save for what the distant future may hold. There was only desire, and their own ability to discover peace in each other. Their wounds were open now, no longer festering beneath the surface; though it hurt to rip off the infected scab, doing so was necessary for healing. And that healing could finally begin, hastened by the salve of requited love.

Love.

Such a simple and oft-overused word, but one that carried the might of the gods.

It was Zeref who made the first move. Sliding his hands up her wet shoulders to tangle in her hair, he pulled her face to his slowly. As their lips met gently, she slipped her hands from his jaw to grasp the nape of his neck, closing her eyes on their tears as she told him with her mouth what she had struggled to say before. Stroking the slick indent of her waist reverently, he opened his lips to hers, a small noise of pleasure catching in his throat when she reciprocated in kind.

Beneath the water Mavis strained upwards on the tips of her toes, craving more of the pressure of his mouth on hers. Rubbing her stiff nipples against him in the process, she felt a tremor jolt through his body like a fine current as he jerked. Inquisitive excitement filled her at the fleeting touch of his hard shaft against her stomach. Pulling his mouth from hers, Zeref cradled her face in his wet palm as he trailed his lips down her neck, tasting her damp shoulder.

"Zeref..." The moan was careless, but she was beyond embarrassment. He didn't answer, instead reaching for her hips beneath the water. Lifting her up along his body, aided by the buoyancy of the water, he deposited her on the edge of the tub. Mavis squirmed at the warm surface of the porcelain against her behind, glancing up at Zeref through the wet hair covering her forehead. He brushed it aside for her, able to look into her eyes now that they were closer to face level. Wiping a stray tear from her cheek, he cupped her jaw and kissed her again deliberately, the gentle brush of his lips against hers causing her stomach to jump.

She jolted in response to the touch of his hand cupping her bare breast, though it hadn't been rough in the slightest. Pulling away until his breath ghosted across her lips, he murmured, "Sensitive?"

She blushed, about to apologize, when his touch gentled further and he looked down at her fertile chest thoughtfully. Motherhood had induced blue veins to thread outward from the tips of her teats, which were moist with milk from their recent stimulation. Mavis valiantly fought the urge to cover herself from Zeref's gaze, hoping he wasn't disgusted at the sight of the change. Wondering what he was going to do, her eyes widened when he lowered his head to one swollen nipple. Opening his mouth over it, he drew the peak of her milk-laden breast into his mouth gently, supporting its nourishing weight with one hand.

The novel sensation of tingling depletion made her gasp, and her hands hovered over his head uncertainly, relief from the constant pressure of being overfilled with an ache she couldn't assuage spreading throughout her breast. Her face flamed crimson at what she was certain was depravity, but her back simultaneously arched to give him better access to the soft orb as she clutched his shoulders for balance. Releasing the nipple with a _pop _and a soft nuzzle, he moved on to her other breast, and there was silence for another minute as he gave it the same attention, throat swallowing in conjunction with the suction of his mouth.

Drawing back, he gently kissed each nipple while Mavis squirmed. "Zeref," she breathed again throatily, in equal parts gratitude and lust. He smothered the noise with a kiss, catching her by surprise with its blatant hunger. Opening her mouth to him eagerly, she was able to discern the richly sweet flavor of herself, but it didn't overpower the unique taste she remembered him to have. He was addictive.

Returning her fervor, he pulled her off the ledge to encourage her to wrap both legs around his waist. Mavis did so, the threatening ridge of his arousal between their bodies only serving to stoke the flames of her excitement. She bit back a disgruntled noise as their mouths were separated, sliding down his body as far as he would allow her. Positioning her soft opening over his shaft underwater, Zeref sunk his teeth into his lip mercilessly to fight the temptation to shove into the waiting clasp of her body, not wanting to hurt her with his impatience. She seemed to sense his hesitation, for at that moment she tightened her legs around his hips, welcoming the burning stretch of their joining. Pulling his head down to reclaim the vital contact of their lips, she felt a response jolt through him.

It was primal, an ancient code dictating he take advantage of the compliance of the one before him, but it was also tinged with the need to imprint himself in her. To show her with his cursed body what he had already confessed with his lips.

Tightening his grip on her thighs, Zeref pinned Mavis against the wall of the tub, sloshing the water heedlessly as he impaled her. She yelped into his mouth and he swallowed the noise, pulling back to fill her again, the slick grip of her walls around him making his loins hum in delight. Softness gave way to hardness as he pushed until he could go no deeper. He focused on the sensations of the moment, lost to every care; her soft mouth open to his, her hands in his hair, her firm thighs in his hands, the heat of the water. It was heaven.

Unraveling faster than he could have anticipated, he reached between them to find the nub where Mavis's pleasure centered and stroked it softly. When she tensed, depths tightening around him responsively, he repeated the motion with a swirl of his thumb, learning what made her gasp into his mouth and using it against her.

Overwhelmed with the sensation of being impossibly full, she held her breath at the balancing pleasure of his touch, the discomfort of having too much of him somehow only serving to enhance her ecstasy. As his other hand palmed one sensitive breast demandingly, she pulled away from his lips to gasp for air against his hard shoulder, her panting breaths rising into irrepressible whimpers as the assault of the sensations stole her breath away. Nuzzling her neck as he thrust into her in a searing rhythm, Zeref inhaled the lovely scent beneath her ear that was uniquely hers, uncertain how much longer he would be able to hold out against the overpowering force of his impending summit.

Shivering at the sensory distraction of his breath on her neck, Mavis tensed against the pleasure that had built while her attention had been diverted. Another thrust and it was too much. Shoved over the edge, her entire body tensed with the thrill of climax, tearing a strangled cry of surprise from her throat as she clamped down spasmodically on the substantial width filling her to the breaking point.

At her sudden zenith, Zeref pitched his hips forward as far as physically possible, pinning her between the hard porcelain wall and his own body as his world was shattered by the blinding light of fulfillment. If there had been any intent to withdraw at that crucial moment, it was rendered an impossibility by their sheer need to be as close to one other as they could.

Biting her neck subconsciously, he didn't realize he was making a noise he had never uttered before—something between a groan and a growl, drawn out of vocal cords involuntarily. But he did vaguely hear Mavis's muffled sob, and their delight was prolonged as shudder after shudder of bliss punctuated their embrace. For long moments they stayed that way, panting and enervated, while the hormonal afterglow seeped through their bloodstreams lazily.

Realizing his teeth were still embedded in her neck, Zeref lifted his head reluctantly. A trickle of blood marked the wound, which slowly began to heal before his eyes. A small, incredulous smile formed on his lips at the sight and he ignored the death magic filling the air around them, seizing the deep love welling in his heart for the person in his arms.

"I love you," he murmured, but she had said it at the exact same moment as he had, and they both gave a huff of wry acknowledgement. Holding Mavis's sodden head against his chest, Zeref stroked her hair gently, a welcome emotion that almost felt like the absence of pain replacing the tightness of his chest. Easing away from each other, they noticed for the first time that the daylight had mostly faded from the small room. As she blinked sleepily, he held her hips steady to pull out of her with care, aided by the buoyancy of the water.

Wincing a little at the harsh soreness of the ruptures below that had yet to spontaneously mend, she noticed the concerned look crossing Zeref's face and hastened to reassure him, "It's nothing, it'll heal in a moment."

Climbing out of the tub, he dried her with one of the many thick towels waiting for them on a rack. Mavis would've protested the fact that he was carefully blotting her with the terrycloth linen while letting himself get cold, but her limbs were heavy with exhausted repletion and it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep her eyes open. Her hair received similar treatment, though it took Zeref several minutes to wring the water from her locks and dry them as best he could with an extra large towel.

Easily carrying her to the spacious bed, he turned back the covers and laid her between the cool, crisp sheets and heavy blanket, arranging her wet hair above her head so her body wouldn't catch a chill. She didn't loosen her grip around his neck, murmuring, "Stay."

"I was already going to," he informed her gravely.

Crawling into the warming space beside her, he pulled her into the curve of his body, wrapping one arm snugly around her slim waist and nuzzling his cheek flush against hers. Mavis smiled to herself suddenly, finally understanding why he loved this position so much. She could feel his front pressed alongside her back, unobstructed by clothing and wonderfully warm. Inching further back against him, awash in oxytocin from the pressure of his hug, she promptly fell asleep in his arms.

Remembering the despondency and self-inflicted isolation he had endured throughout the previous night, Zeref suppressed a shudder and blinked tiredly. The soothing prospect of sleep nearly brought tears to his eyes, and it had been made possible by the girl in his arms. He'd missed this closeness to her dearly—the smell of her hair, the feeling of her body against his that was even better without his tunic or her toga getting in the way. Eyes drifting closed, he succumbed to the deeply regenerative power of sleep.

Tomorrow's problems and sadnesses could wait until tomorrow.

...

The yellow light of the morning sun cast an orange glow through Zeref's eyelids, gently rousing him from a dreamless slumber. Gradually becoming aware of the warm pressure on one arm, he turned to his side, taking in the sight of Mavis lying on her stomach with half her face cradled in the crook of his elbow. The silk sheet was tangled about her waist, exposing the smooth, pale expanse of one fragile shoulder. Unruly blond hair stuck up from her head in a messy halo, normally pale cheeks were flushed with sleep, and her back rose and fell in cadence to her peaceful breathing.

Zeref had never seen anything so beautiful before in his life.

She strongly reminded him of a whimsical forest sprite from the long ago fairytales he would invent for Natsu. Mildly surprised that he'd remembered the small fragment of his childhood, he reached out to touch her shoulder gently. Incredulous that she was real and not a ghost summoned by tortured memories, he cupped her soft cheek in his palm, lightly brushing a stray lock of sandy hair behind her ear in the process. Mavis stirred, lips twitching as she murmured unintelligibly, and nuzzled her face into the tentative caress.

Eyelids fluttered delicately as the wings of a new butterfly as she came to consciousness. He offered a hesitant smile as those emerald eyes opened slowly, a look of confusion ghosting across their depths. Half expecting her expression to change to one of discomfort and regret upon realizing who she was in bed with, he had to remind himself of her identity when she smiled back at him warmly. No judgement, no pity or belated shame; only warmth.

Warmth he didn't deserve.

He cast the thought aside, deciding as always to accept the sanity-preserving acceptance offered him. But the very fact that he was accepting her love was proof that he was unworthy of it, a familiar voice whispered darkly, and being aware of the fact that the voice was himself only served to make it more categorically disturbing than it would've been otherwise. Seeming to read something in his unguarded gaze, a little furrow appeared between Mavis's eyebrows, and she laid a warm hand on his cheek gently.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

A simple invitation, and one she had extended before, but for long moments Zeref warred with his incentives while she held her breath. Reminded of his desire to trust her, he finally jumped from the cliff of indecision with a straightforward confession.

"I was pleased when I learned you were cursed."

At her silence, he went on, subconsciously stroking a thumb across the satiny arc of her cheekbone. Back, and forth, and back again, with no particular rhythm. "At first, I was terrified for you. The centuries I knew you would have to endure, as everyone you cared for withered and died around you. But then, it occured to me for the first time that I may not have to be alone anymore." His voice was indifferent, as though narrating a play he had no interest in. She recognized that tone. It was implemented to dissociate from the pain of one's own thoughts.

His hand had stilled on her cheek, and he let it rest there while he went on, as though forgetting the intimacy of the contact. "I searched for you, not certain what I intended to do once I found you. I knew you were the only one who could understand my sorrow. And when you not only understood, but _accepted_ me, despite the unholy mess I was then, I was incredulous with dawning hope. But I know now, as I suspected at the time, that you made your decision based on incomplete facts. You only knew me as I presented myself to you. What may have been pity...I mistook for love."

Shaking her head before he could finish, the side of her face rubbing against his dry palm, she argued, "I accepted you not because I saw that no one else had, but because you were the epitome of what I love in life. The real you, Zeref. Not the curse. I saw beneath the lies."

The hand drew back from her cheek. Shifting to prop himself up on his elbow, black hair tumbling over his forehead as his untamable cowlick bounced rebelliously, he parried her objection with quiet patience. "You didn't know me."

Her hand had fallen from his face, and they stared at each other for a long while, no ticking clock to mark the passage of time.

"Do I know you now?" she asked, solemnly.

After a long moment, he answered thoughtfully, "I don't know. I'm not certain I know who I am, so I cannot be sure whether the version of me you hold in your heart is the correct one. I do know you have no idea of the atrocities I've committed in the past."

"Tell me some of them," she said quietly, looking into his eyes unwaveringly.

He flinched visibly at the thought. "Mavis..."

"Tell me, Zeref. What is it you can't forgive yourself for? Murdering innocent people? Betraying your friends? Dabbling in Black magic you know you have no business using?"

At her obvious references to herself, his face hardened, cold as the sky before a winter storm. "Everything you did was unintentional, whereas I purposefully set out to revive my little brother using forbidden magic that I was implicitly warned against." The words were blunt. "I, alone, am the reason you were cursed-"

"You made me promise not to use that spell!" she broke in, contradicting his self-castigation before it could escalate. "I knew the risks, and used it regardless to save my friend. Why must you blame yourself for everything?"

"Because my existence in this world has been a catalyst for an unprecedented amount of abhorrent evil," he stated matter-of-factly.

At the articulated form of her own innermost opinion of herself, Mavis cringed in empathy. "What is evil?" she countered. "Intentions? Actions? You can't argue from a standpoint if you don't define your terms. From the way I see it, you were wrongfully punished for an alleged 'crime' you committed out of altruism. For centuries you were forced to suffer unjustly, until the contradictions corroded your very sanity!"

He didn't answer, composure eroding as tears threatened to fill his eyes. "If you could see my past, you'd conclude that I deserved every second of it."

Sitting up abruptly, she shook her head. "I don't care if you did!" In a bid to make Zeref understand, she took hold of his shoulders. His eyes widened slightly, but Mavis pushed him over until he was laying flat on his back. Straddling his hips, disregarding their nudity, she grasped his jaw in determination.

"Zeref—" She broke off as a thought occured to her, a curious look of puzzlement crossing her face. "What's your last name?"

Unable to concentrate with her slight form poised above him, he whispered, "Dragneel."

"I like it," she determined instantly, but couldn't quite remember what she had planned to say. No words were adequate to fill the gaping hole in his heart. Filled with sadness at his hatred of himself, she blinked the familiar burn from her eyes that warned of the start of a deluge. He lay looking up at her, lips parted and a lost expression in his eyes, and she leaned down impulsively. Catching his mouth with hers, she kissed him soundly, pulling back to whisper against his lips.

"I love you."

Another peck, gentler this time, intended to soften his mouth into opening for her. Then a more insistent one.

Surrendering to her completely, Zeref relinquished his tongue to hers, flushing with need as his shaft hardened fully down below. Mavis shifted over it, rubbing her soft heat against him in the process. "Do you forgive me for breaking my promise and using Law?"

It hadn't occurred to him to voice it before—he'd never held anything against her. "Yes," he said simply.

"Then you need to forgive yourself for trying to revive your little brother," she persisted.

"I didn't merely try. I succeeded," he said, glancing away from her stunned gaze. "I mastered the delicate balance between life and death...but not before I was cursed. I had already built a magical revival system as a child, but the cost for using it was too high. I couldn't continue my research at the Academy after I caught Ankhseram's eye, so I exiled to study by myself."

"You really are a prodigy," Mavis remarked in awe, and he looked up at her to ascertain that she wasn't being sarcastic. Seeing her face was stark serious, he glanced away with a touch of discomfort.

"Zeref," she said softly. When his gaze was once more open to hers, she asked, "Can you promise me something?"

Hearing her voice quaver, he nodded apprehensively.

"Promise me...that you'll never try to hurt yourself again," she said.

He tensed beneath her subconsciously, thinking of the countless times he had attempted to end his life. Every way he could imagine, every method, and after each try he had endured the sensation of his body knitting itself back together that was somehow ten times worse than the pain itself. Many times he had known better than to think it would work, but threw himself over the ledge anyway with more than the hope of death as his impetus. Then the sheer agony would wrench his attention from the mental-

"Promise me," Mavis insisted, the tears she had held back finally surfacing as she saw what he must be thinking. The memories she couldn't take. The agony she wasn't there to save him from. Reaching for Zeref's hands, she ignored his pained look and held them to her cheeks. "I love your hands," she whispered, a miniscule drop of regret winding its way down the side of her nose.

_Mine are the hands of a murderer,_ he couldn't help thinking. Face contorting, he bit his lip hard to balance the impulse to weep at her kind words when he had no right to them. She was too close, too caring, perched atop him and demanding he take care of himself. The metallic flavor of blood filled his mouth, and at the sight Mavis leaned down again to take his lips with hers. A tear fell onto his cheek as she absorbed the liquid oozing from the small wound, not pulling away until after it had healed.

Lifting her hips over his, she felt the uncomfortable pressure of his shaft at her sensitively slick entrance and sank down on it quickly, rejecting the need to pause and let her body adapt to the painful way it was being forced open.

Taken by surprise, Zeref tensed as his mouth fell open, nerves alight with pleasure while his brow furrowed as though in pain. Mavis took a sharp gulp of breath as she absorbed the exhilaratingly overwhelming sensation of containing his body within hers, hesitant to look into his face and see the expression there. When he shifted upwards in answer to her bold conquest, however, she leaned over him to push her breasts flush against his chest.

His face was open, more vulnerable than she had ever seen it, and it was momentarily wiped clean of all traces of pain. "Like this," she whispered against his mouth, lifting her hips to savor the glide of his hardness against her walls.

Biting his lip again, Zeref relented to her earlier request as she sank back down onto him. "I promise. As long as I can remember, I've always sought to end my life, but the events of the past year have changed that reality. But the curse...my will can oscillate at any moment, and I fear that it will again."

"Then I'll be there to stop you," she said vehemently. Rising off of him and sinking back down fluidly, she gloried in his grimace of pleasure, lost to modesty as the crude position opened herself entirely to his gaze. She was giving him herself, cleaning the wounds a bit more. Someday, she would heal them completely. The scars would remain, but they would be white.

Without lending a conscious thought to rhythm or method, she rolled her hips, savoring his pleasure as she built her own. Feeling him buck up to meet her, the movement resounding throughout her depths as he rocked against her cervix, she gasped involuntarily. The air left her as a whimper when she exhaled, and she fell over his chest to clasp his hands on either side of his head, her hips unfaltering as she took him again and again.

Reaching their peak in tandem, their hips instinctively pressed together tightly, and Mavis tensed and sighed in pleasure as she felt the familiar wash of heat fill her with every throb of Zeref's manhood. Draped over his body, she didn't move as she felt him pull a hand free to run it down her back, pausing to rest on her bare buttocks. Nuzzling the top of her head, he lay in the relaxation of their coupling.

"You know, I believe this is the first time we've done it in a bed," he observed thoughtfully, and she trembled with suppressed laughter.

Cupping her shoulder with his other hand, he stroked the length of her back slowly. She shivered in pleasant enjoyment, succumbing to the purely tactile sensation of his touch.

The bed was soft beneath Zeref's back, a novel sensation after spending so many months sleeping on the ground. Fears and worries were far from nonexistent, but here and now, there were only the seconds passing in this room. Neither wanted to break the spell. Anxiety temporarily vaporized, he felt his lips form into a relaxed smile. "If I'd known copulation to have so many benefits," he mused, "I believe I'd have done it sooner."

Mavis turned her head to kiss his chest, and he thought he felt an answering smile pressed against his skin. "Not without me, you wouldn't." There was definitely a smile in her voice as she traced the locket lying against his chest with a slender fingertip.

Feeling a precarious emotion fill his heart, he tried to equate it with what he remembered of his past to properly lable the feeling. But nothing had ever come close to this—an absence of pain, as though anything could happen and it wouldn't bother him. It wasn't the superficial calm of his curse, but a knowledge that the worst was behind him and the wounds were no longer festering. As though...there could be a future. Death was no longer the only way out. He wondered vaguely why he'd always assumed the future would mirror the past. There was no telling when one might meet a person who would change their every expectation of life.

"Mavis," he said, tentative in his powers of observation. "I think I am now experiencing what is commonly referred to as 'happiness.' "

_**A/N:** To those of you who can't stand smut, I feel I owe you an apology for how long this chapter ran on. In my defense, it's awfully difficult to suppress creative plot, and there was character development laced throughout, plus a dear reader did request it, so..._

_Question: How many of you think the story should end here, and how many of you want to see August actually able to grow up with his parents?_


	16. Chapter 16: The Month We Met

Feeling the communication lacrima in the other room disrupt the metaphysical atmosphere obnoxiously, pairing the fine tremors of invisible energy with a very audible ringing, Zeref stared at the ceiling in disappointment. Stirring on his chest, Mavis asked in a spent murmur, "Aren't you going to answer it?"

"I suppose I could," he contemplated, sounding particularly unenthralled by the idea.

Trying to push herself off his body, she gave up when her heavy limbs wouldn't obey the command and melted back into him tiredly. "I feel like I've been fighting for days."

"I'm not surprised. You're still recovering from magical exhaustion and you haven't precisely been resting."

Blushing, she was reminded of their current state. "That was a long bath," she agreed innocently.

"Yes, very invigorating," Zeref joined in, and rolled Mavis to her back before he could be tempted to conduct a reiteration. Looking down at her tousled face and chapped lips, he voiced the first thought that came to mind.

"You're beautiful."

She blinked dubiously, having more than an inkling of how messy she must look right about now, flushed and sprawled beneath him on the coverlet. "Huh?"

He smoothed the hair from her forehead and repeated sincerely, "You're beautiful, Mavis."

She knew she wasn't, but the grave way he enunciated the words almost made her doubt that assumption. Long-forgotten memories of cruel laughter and sneering jibes from the village children—uniting under an umbrella of scornful superiority to bully a dishevelled orphan—flickered through her mind. "You're...the first person to ever think so."

"Come on," Zeref said tenderly. "You've just forgotten what it's like, that's all."

At the echo of her own long-ago declaration, her eyes watered, and a familiar tide of chaos began flaring to death once more. Finding no life in the room accessible for destruction, it surged furiously, joining Zeref's own curse to form a vortex of mortality. The resistant walls of the bedroom caged the insanity in, refusing to give it any other outlet than the two immortals intertwined on the bed. Mavis attempted to suppress the surge of darkness to no avail, and after a few moments she realized he was trying to do the same. She shook her head gravely.

"Don't do that with me. I want all of you."

He absorbed the words with care. "You first."

"Then I won't hold back," she surrendered.

Black lashes fluttered with a tide of profound emotion. Leaning down, he kissed her slowly, as though they had all the time in the world. Perhaps they did. When the gently suctioning contact developed into a familiar intensity as they searched each other's mouths, he broke it off breathlessly, sensing how tired she was.

Running his mouth along her collarbone, he slid down her body to reach her chest. His mouth slowly ascended the soft slope of one breast, opening to envelop the lax areola lazily. When it contracted, smarting under the teasing swirl of his tongue, Mavis shifted beneath him restlessly. The familiar pressure of milk in her breasts was almost painful, reminding her that they hadn't been emptied for at least twelve hours. Her face flamed at what she was about to ask for, but she plunged ahead bravely.

"Zeref, could you..." her words trailed off, but he picked up on what she was requesting astutely.

"I could, but you should know it's likely to encourage your body's production of the milk," he warned quietly.

"I don't mind. Besides—we'll break the curse soon, and the baby will be hungry, won't he?"

"Yes," he agreed slowly, his heart warming at her optimism. Leaning down, he drew one bud into his mouth gingerly. Mavis let out a relieved sigh, relaxing further beneath him as he rhythmically milked the pressure that had caused her skin to stretch over the swollen tissue. Shifting his attention to the other painfully engorged orb after a few moments, he contained her ribcage in his hands as he gave it the same tender treatment, swallowing the pleasantly flavored liquid. Rolling to his side afterwards, he lay still, willing his persistent libido to subside.

Rubbing her thighs together and inexplicably relishing the sticky warmth she felt between them from their earlier coupling, Mavis reached down to nudge her hand into his, unable to keep from touching him for longer than a few seconds. It felt as though they had never truly known each other until now, though she had a feeling there would be plenty more terrain to cover until they could rest completed.

"The colors are so vibrant," Zeref whispered in amazement, taking in the sight of the mediocre room.

"Huh?"

"I've never seen them so clearly," he elucidated. "This precarious feeling of hope...it terrifies me."

"Such is the nature of hope," she said quietly, understanding what he was attempting to explain. "The more you have to lose, the more you fear losing it."

"I can't recall ever having so much to relinquish. I've always viewed death as something to gain—the final achievement—but now I realize I've already acquired what matters most in life. The very thought makes my blood run cold with sheer terror, similar to how I used to fear the concept of being forced to live forever."

"You won't lose what you've gained, and you won't be forced to live forever. We'll break the curse, and we'll die together," she said steadily. "Please...trust me."

"I don't truly want to die," he said quietly. "I want to live, but only with you."

She tightened her grip of his hand silently, understandingly.

"Thank you," he said suddenly.

"For what?"

"For being the one person I can allow myself to love. I hate that your curse is the only way it's possible, yet..." He trailed off, rethinking what he had been about to say. "I continually disgust myself."

"I understand what you mean," Mavis caught on. "In the same way, I'm oddly glad you were—no, not glad of_ that, _just glad that you're alive now, but you wouldn't be if you were never cursed, and that sounds-"

"-hideously selfish," he finished for her. "Perhaps it's our mutual affliction that causes us to have such opposing thoughts, but they make perfect sense."

They lay together in silence, no apologies or explanations necessary, baring sides of themselves to each other that no one else observed.

"If this is to be our lot in life," Zeref said finally, "let us make the best of it."

...

Nothing made much sense to him.

Not the prevalent colors he hadn't yet learned to differentiate between, nor the shapes and objects around him, nor the substance he swallowed that eased the fundamental ache of hunger in his stomach. Time itself was not a learned concept; there was only the transient passing of events and his own increasing clarity and strength.

The baby didn't have the vocabulary for words such as _strength_ or _food,_ but he was very familiar with the conceptualization of such matters. The glimmer of vital energy inside him increased with every passing moment, in increments unnoticeable by the hour but radically apparent by the day. He had no idea what the burgeoning power was, or how to control it, but letting it run wild wasn't detrimental to him. And sometimes, it would bring a warm feeling of nostalgia to his consciousness, lingering with the teasing offer of something he couldn't define.

But then came a day when he focused on it a little more, and caught a glimpse of memory that he couldn't quite separate from current events. Just pictures, and indistinct ones at that, but the feelings they produced were the comfort he had been lacking all along. A couple embracing, a yellow-haired girl talking to a darkly robed boy; their legacy alive and thriving in his own magic. He felt he had seen them before in his lifetime, but couldn't remember being touched or fed by them the way he was physically tended by the redheaded woman.

He assumed they had left him, and this was why he cried. He didn't hate the determinedly kind arms that tried to calm his feeble bawling and entice him to drink warm imitation milk, but he was distinctly aware of what they lacked: the deep love shared by those he would later discover were his parents.

On the other end of the spectrum, Irene was at her wits' end.

She had tried every natural method possible to calm the child, but nothing seemed to work besides her Enchantments. His magic power levels were still unstable, which was nothing to worry about at the moment, but she knew from her studies of the formative months of young wizards that such unruliness could prove to be a threat later on. Just how His Majesty would decide to tame his son's power, Irene didn't know, but she was uncertain whether she herself would have the finesse to do so. Raising children was definitely not her forte, she determined, but she had been keen on seeing firsthand what caring for an infant was like.

Though the child apparently despised her, she had discovered that the endeavor could nonetheless be a rewarding experience. There were moments when he was asleep, for instance, that his mouth would move endearingly and his little fist would clench, and she would find herself thanking the gods that no one could read her uncharacteristically fond thoughts at that moment. The hormones doubtlessly present in her bloodstream had to be to blame for her annoyingly strong maternal instincts, Irene decided.

No other explanation would suffice for how she had abandoned her work for the kingdom to her division of specially trained imperial soldiers, merely to wait hand and foot on a one-week-old infant. A very important infant—being the firstborn son of Emperor Spriggan and thus the sole heir to the Alvarez Empire—but even so, obligation to her dear leader was not the only impetus that drove her to look after his son. At least she had quelled the earlier riots in the disloyal Actinide lands, Irene thought resignedly.

...

"Can you take me to the gardens now?" Mavis asked expectantly, reminding Zeref of his promise. She was looking up from a book on Alakitasian meteorology, swinging her bare feet from the leather sofa-chair she inhabited. Zeref spent copious amounts of time with her, more or less attempting to research all known records of Ankhseram—of which their were many myths and far fewer facts—to combine with what he knew of the subject, hopefully to compile a hypothesis on a possible method of breaking the curse. It wasn't the first time he had undergone the endeavor, and if he failed to succeed it wouldn't be the last, either.

No information had been promising thus far, but in his zealous search he'd uncovered quite a few interesting pieces of history that grabbed his inner polymath's attention. One such discovery had been the conglomeration of legends concerning the Mildians, an ancient race rumored to hold the power to embody the gods. Zeref had initially dismissed the idea as myth—he himself was of Mildian lineage, and had been there when they fell, which shaped his opinion of the bloodline as one with an inordinate obsession in the power of gods. If the legend had grown over a span of centuries, it was more than likely to be fabricated. He was eventually compelled to drop the matter without determining its certitude or fraudulence, however: his companion didn't allow him to truly lose himself in historical records or ancient tomes for longer than a few hours at a time.

His chambers were spacious and lavishly furnished, but Mavis had grown to dearly miss the sunlight and fresh air associated with the outdoors and was looking forward to seeing the large palace gardens for the first time. During the past week, her magic power and physical endurance had returned almost in full, to Zeref's satisfaction.

"Yes," he answered her request absentmindedly, glancing up from the palace's financial records. Frore tended to be a bit conservative with expenses, trying to spare jewel whenever possible, though such skimping wasn't necessary. "Though it would be wise to check on the baby first."

"Of course," she said in a small voice. Whenever the subject of their son was brought up, Mavis had a tendency to grow uncharacteristically subdued, often glancing away uncomfortably when he checked the lacrima's security footage. Such was the case now, as Zeref activated the magical orb, and he suppressed a sober sigh at her behavior. At first it had troubled him deeply and he had struggled to understand it, but as the days rolled by he'd decided to give her the space she needed in the hope that perhaps she would voice her reasons to him eventually.

Watching his sleeping child, he appreciated the peaceful sight of the boy as Irene took one of her naps—which he noted had grown more frequent lately. Feeling a tentative presence brush against his sleeve, he looked down to see Mavis standing beside him, watching the screen as though the slightest movement would spook her from her position.

"He's yours, Mavis," Zeref said suddenly, bringing an arm up to lightly encompass her small shoulders. "It's time we named him."

"I-" she broke off, gaze riveted to the little blond head. Memories assailed her, and she hastily swallowed the lump rising in her throat. "I don't deserve him," she whispered.

Suspicions confirmed, Zeref stood frozen in place, waiting patiently for her to continue, just as she had for him that precarious morning a week ago.

"The last baby I- Rita wanted me to name him, that day. She..."

He didn't move, didn't risk a glance at her downbent head as the words poured out. The image projected on the lacrima was fast burned into his mind as he refused his eyes the impulse to shift.

"I didn't want to believe you and I ran back to the guildhall. Yuri's baby had just been born, and he was so- so _cute-_ and they trusted me." Her voice was tremulous, filled with the remorseful grief that nearly two years of running had not healed.

"I killed her," Mavis almost whispered, staring blindly at her son's head.

It was starting to make sense now; her reaction when she saw the baby for the first time, her general avoidance of him up until today, the introspective blame accenting her perturbed eyes. Zeref couldn't stand the desolation in her tone—or the guilt she must have carried for all this time—a moment longer, and whirled her around to face him abruptly. She met his eyes unflinchingly, hollowed wet gaze haunted with the memory of the dead.

"You warned me- " she began, and he silenced her with his mouth. His hands clutched the small joint of her shoulder tightly, pulling her to meet the uncompromising tilt of his bent head.

It wasn't a kiss so much as a plea, an attempt to make her understand. Her words died in her throat at the insistent pressure, thoughts scattering like chaff in the wind. His palm cradled the side of her face; it was wet, cold, but he didn't care. Pulling away after a moment, Zeref drew a deep breath. His next statement was spoken clearly. "The past is dead, Mavis. We should bury it."

To her disgruntlement, the tears wouldn't stop, and she gave him a wobbly nod instead of attempting to speak past the lump in her throat. His thumbs were gentle as he wiped the moisture from the delicate skin beneath her eyes. "Don't think about it," he said firmly. "Don't give it the license to destroy you."

Exerting gentle pressure on her cheek with his hand, he guided her gaze to the lacrima's screen, where their baby slept peacefully. "He is a fascinating creation, and you deserve him."

"Thank you," she whispered, too overcome for any other words as the tears dripped from her chin. They ran over the kind hand cupping her cheek and tracked the rest of her face with burning reminders of her forsaken humanity.

Pulling Mavis into his arms, Zeref felt her wet face burrow into the front of his robes immediately and looked down at the top of her golden head. Unbidden, a memory rose of the first time she had hugged him on that shady forest path, and he stood as though in a trance as other colorful imagery floated through his mind. The day they'd met, when she asked him determinedly to teach her magic; watching her earnestly meditating as she absorbed ethernano; answering her relentless questions about the nature of magic with a teacher's excitement to have found a willing pupil. Each one was a splash of color in the once-white bucket of memory, and one such drop rose to the forefront, taking precedence over the others as they faded into the murky paint of the past.

_Strolling underneath the tall canopy of dark trees absentmindedly, Zeref looked ahead to where he knew a small grove to be located. Hearing a quiet feminine voice, he listened to the last few words being said without actively intending to do so._

_"...only one who hasn't gotten it yet," Mavis was remarking sadly. He assumed she was talking to her imaginary friend, whom she referred to as Zera, and his suspicions were confirmed when she paused for a moment as though listening to a response, then answered._

_"It isn't exactly that I feel sad, I'd just hoped to find a special magic of my own that has the power to protect those I care about most."_

_Ascertaining what the conversation was about, Zeref gave in to his mysteriously compelling temptation and walked up to the girl, though he was wary of the risk of getting within twenty feet of her or any of her friends. She sat on a rotting fallen log beside a small stream, hands fisted on her knees and bare feet perched on the moss ahead. Looking up suddenly as she sensed his presence, her forlorn expression changed incrementally at the sight of him, a small smile lifting her mouth. Her head inclined in a silent greeting._

_In response, he felt his own expression soften ever so slightly. They stood that way, sharing a comfortably wordless companionship, as a warm August breeze carried a leaf by with nonchalant grace._

_It was Mavis who broke the silence. "I'd like to thank you for teaching us." Looking to her right a second or so later, she said politely, "I know, Zera. Will you please give us a moment? Tell the others I'll be there soon if they ask about me."_

_Silence settled over the dense forest atmosphere afterwards, and Mavis sighed ruefully. "Sorry," she apologized to her non-imaginary companion. "She can be a bit rude at times."_

_"You already did thank me, a few days ago," Zeref reminded the girl, ignoring her peculiar behavior. The memory of her exuberance by the lake when he'd agreed to teach them magic was etched in his mind._

_"That was on behalf of my friends and Magnolia, but this time I offer my gratitude for myself as well. I have a feeling you don't do this kind of thing often, though you're very proficient at it," she explained earnestly._

_He looked away from her big green eyes, watching the rippling clear water of the creek beside them. "There is no need to offer thanks. True strength cannot be taught by another, it is found within—and you will discover that you have it in spades."_

_"You really think so? That's so kind," she said, smiling up at him guilelessly. Then, her expression sobered. "I wish I could repay you somehow."_

_"You have," he said simply, referring to her companionship and the mitigation of his own crushing loneliness._

_"I don't see how," she insisted._

_"For your sake, I hope you never do." The words were so quiet Mavis almost didn't catch them—almost—and she looked at him in bewilderment._

_"Who _are_ you?" she asked in a small voice, experiencing once more the peculiar feeling of interacting with a soul that had seen and felt far beyond the ordinary for his time._

_Zeref turned, his toga flowing with the movement. He had said too much. "I must go now. Thank you for speaking with me...Mavis."_

_He couldn't help hearing that soft voice comment to herself or her make-believe friend as he advanced further into the woods, "He's a good man, but he strikes me as the type who would overthink the capability of his own abilities and virtues. Particularly, his kindness. I hope he never doubts his worth..."_

_How she had managed to not only open his book, but read a page of it in so short a time, he would never know._

Coming back to the present, Zeref said quietly, "I hope you never doubt your worth."

She pulled her head from his lower chest slowly, looking up at him as she tried to place the words. Finally, she wet dry lips and whispered, "It feels like I said that a century ago..."

"At the time, I didn't believe your words were meant for me. I would say they apply more to you, Mavis."

She didn't answer, but the look in her eyes negated his assertion.

"That August of X686 and the time we spent together," he went on, "is close to my heart. I've treasured those memories for years."

Looking at the lacrima again, Mavis felt pride fill her heart, coupled with tenderness for the life they'd created. Suddenly, she had an inspiration. "August."

Zeref's expression was quizzical.

"August..." she repeated, slowly. "The month fate caused our paths to entwine."

Understanding, a small smile twisted his mouth as he watched their son's head turn in his sleep, blond hair stirring. "I think it's a superb name," he said softly.

...

It was beyond difficult for Zeref to balance managing his subjects with preventing the inevitable negative outcome of his affliction, now that it had been activated on Alvarez soil. He stayed within the bounds of an ample radius of thirty feet from his subordinates whenever possible, disregarding their concerned looks. It wasn't impossible to run his empire from afar, and it was the next best method if he couldn't control which lives his curse sought to take at will. He was in the state of mind where every life held meaning for him, and the very idea of devaluing a single one was repulsive. As luck would have it, his chief administrator was highly competent, and the disastrous effects of the Curse of Contradiction could be staved off with social distancing.

But there were other days; days when his curse wouldn't affect his subjects whatsoever, and his capacity for feeling was greatly diminished whenever he was separated from Mavis's company. These states shamed him, though he knew the contradictory nature of his affliction was likely to blame for them.

Lately, he'd been secluding himself with the one person who cleared the fog from his mind, but he was reluctant to grant her free reign of the palace grounds. Nor did he take her with him when he looked after business, wary of both their powers getting out of hand. Particularly his, as it had a tendency to do so whenever he was around her. There was also the fact that Mavis had yet to ever lose her appreciation for life, and he did not want her to start now.

If the palace staff were intrigued with the girl residing in his chambers—not to mention their emperor's undue preoccupation with her—they pretended as though they were blind to her existence, delivering food and other commodities with an impeccably straight face. They had been taught well.

Standing in the shade of a large fruit tree, Zeref watched as Mavis breathed deeply, looking up to feel the late afternoon sun bathe her face in its radiant warmth. In appreciation, a wave of death emanated from her, crumbling the well-tended grass and shrubs around its source. Before her face could fall at the reminder of her curse, he strode up to her slight form and took her arm abruptly.

"It's alright," he reassured her. "It's bound to happen. I think you'd like the view from the balcony better."

After the short-range Teleportation spell had effectively transported the two, and they were standing high above Vistarion's assorted buildings on a cobblestone extension that was more of a large terrace than a balcony, Mavis glanced around her in fascination with the circular architecture. "You never told me this existed!"

Zeref smiled at the intended reproach of her voice that had been canceled by delight. There were many things she observed that he had long since taken for granted, and he found her excitement in the mundane rather invigorating.

She skipped over to the balcony's ledge, bracing delicate arms on the warm stone and looking down to the rooftops below. Her cheerful countenance dampened, and she paled for a second at the distance between them and the ground some hundred yards below.

"Afraid of heights?" Zeref asked quietly, coming to stand alongside Mavis. He recognized the look she wore as one of fear, usually due to a memory rekindled by a trigger encountered in the present.

"Not at all," she said bravely, and changed the topic with haste. "I was reading some historical books about your empire, and many contained rather flattering descriptions of you. I was wondering—why is the palace called Alcazar?"

Letting the matter go reluctantly, he answered, "I'm afraid I had nothing to do with its christening. I believe the name was Winter's idea, and it didn't matter either way to me at the time, so I allowed it."

"Winter?"

"Frore's father," Zeref amended, neglecting to explain the lineage of ice mages who had granted him their fealty.

Mavis frowned slightly, observing an early flock of geese migrating south in preparation for the upcoming fall. They soared high above the city, lighting on none of the many man-made ponds in the parks scattered throughout the densely populated capital. When she spoke, it wasn't the demand for explanation he'd expected. "You could've called it Leprechaun Haven," she suggested brightly.

He swallowed a rare chuckle and shook his head gravely.

"Chateau de le Gremlin?" At his amused silence, another thought occured to her and she asked in puzzlement, "Why do they call you Emperor Spriggan?"

"Because a spriggan is the most accurate representation of who I am," Zeref stated simply.

"But it's the opposite of a fairy!"

"Exactly."

Wiggling her bare feet against the rough stone, Mavis looked down in sudden bleakness. Lurking underneath every word or pretense there was always this terrible knowledge of past sins. Of hands soaked in blood, nightmares that were no less real for their lack of appearance during the past week. If only they could truly have peace, the kind that was driven away by constant contradictions and opposing desires.

"Do they know your real name?" she asked soberly, all effort to make light of their situation driven away by the attempted levity that had struck too close to home.

"Most of them are only familiar with my alternative identity here in Alakitasia," he answered casually, "but Irene happens to be from Ishgar, and she's aware of my somewhat unsavory reputation there."

"Your reputation is mostly undeserved," she stated firmly, but Zeref only looked away in silent refutation.

The sun was shining and peace appeared to have the upper hand for now, the suffocating shadows having receded during the rejuvenating time they had spent together, but neither was able to deny that a darker fate was forthcoming. However, the future was not as hopeless as it had been when they were alone. They had a goal, if not a plan; one worthy of striving to achieve.

Or at least, that was what they told themselves whenever the curse would close in on their will to survive.

...

As she made a full recovery over the next three weeks, Mavis grew increasingly restless in her desire to be with her son. She felt she was missing important milestones in his development; his smiles, his quirks, the opportunity to bond with him while his impression of humanity was still fresh—all slipping through her fingers like sand.

The fact that August had been crying throughout most of his waking moments didn't help matters, spiking her anxiety and increasing the helpless feeling of not being able to be physically present for her own flesh and blood. Irene had reported what was all but obvious from viewing the lacrima—that the child's magic power levels were highly unstable and something was driving him to unrest.

If not for Zeref's company during the last few weeks, Mavis would've lost her mind, and vice versa. He was a prisoner of the same irrevocable bonds as those that bound her, slowly being consumed by their inexorable hold. The tedious confusion and fears characteristic of the curse were gradually returning to steal what peace she thought she'd gained, bringing with them the horror of the lives she had stolen as though it was yesterday.

She had known it was bound to happen eventually after she was pulled from her coma, and tried to be grateful for the short reprieve she had been granted, but the knowledge of what she was losing only served to add to her anxiety as the color was stripped from her life once more.

And as she had that day when Zeref had found her in the woods, she witnessed firsthand the astounding weight he had struggled beneath for centuries. It was impossible to understand another's suffering without being able to relate, and impossible to relate without also experiencing the same. Her heart ached for him, for both of them, and for the innocent life they had inexplicably brought into a harsh and unforgiving world._ Was it a sin?_ she wondered. Perhaps they were still paying the price for their transgression, forced to watch August mature without their affectionate parental care.

It was odd that the more her physical body and magic power improved, the more her mental health degenerated in turn. Such was the power of the Curse of Contradiction, and little could surprise her these days.

Sitting bolt upright in bed after a nightmare featuring the group of villagers she had slain in a field, Mavis panted, covered in cold sweat. The cry for them to get away from her died on her lips as her eyes adjusted to the dark room, the outline of furniture barely visible in the pale grey moonlight. Rather than being calmed by the quiet serenity around her, she felt oppressed by the numerous shadows, and instinctively felt beside her for Zeref's warm body.

He wasn't there.

The cold pit of nausea in her stomach twisted, dark and ugly. Before panic could escalate, she heard it: a few low, sonorous notes filtering through the darkness to reach her ears. Wondering what the calmly beautiful noise was, she eased her feet over the side of the bed, pulling a sheet after her to wrap around her nude body as she walked lightly to the doorway. The silvery moonlight lit her way, and as her bare feet pressed against the cool floor on her way to the study, the hauntingly beautiful melody grew in volume. She held her breath as she saw the dark outline of Zeref at the piano.

Walking up to him quietly, she listened as he pressed the keys with more force during the crescendo of the piece, portraying a melancholic tale through the music alone. The chords reverberated through the night, punctuated by silence and the forgotten taste of passion. As the last notes faded, his hands stilled on the keys, shoulders slumping imperceptibly.

"What piece was that?" Mavis asked in a hushed tone, trying to capture its beauty in her heart before it could die.

"Chopin's Prelude in B Minor," Zeref answered dully, not turning to face her.

She laid a hand on his shoulder, gratified when he didn't flinch away. "I was wondering whether you could play. Who was your teacher?"

"There wasn't one—I suppose I was self-taught. You learn to keep your mind active, or otherwise..."

He trailed off, but she didn't need to ask him to elaborate.

"Another nightmare?" he asked quietly.

Mavis flinched, and he read her silence as though she had told him every detail. Zeref was overly proficient at perceiving and interpreting her moods and sometimes even her thoughts, she had discovered, and his skill both comforted and disturbed her.

His hand closed over hers, the warmth soothing a bit of the chilling dream away, and she sank into the bench beside him to absorb more of his body's alluring heat.

"Zeref," she ventured after a moment, "it's as though we're in a stasis."

"Because we haven't been moving forward?"

"I know I needed the time we've taken to recover, but now I'm fully healed. August needs us. I wish..."

"You want to be with him," he stated rather than asked, unmoving besides his light clasp of her hand.

"Yes," Mavis said, subdued, and more dejected frustration was contained in that word than any useless complaint or anxious lament she could've made. Her voice cracked with the sheer weight of it.

Zeref was silent.

"Sooner or later, we will have to leave. Otherwise the curse will force us to commit the one atrocity we know we should not, and until that day our very presence is endangering the life of the person we care the most deeply for," he asserted finally.

The terrible surety of his words frightened her. She didn't second-guess his confidence; if time had taught her anything, it was that the Black Wizard knew far more than she about the workings of their shared scourge. Specifically, the effect it had on one's actions and the resulting repercussions of those deeds. "My confusion has grown, lately," she said instead. "I was hoping it was only in my imagination, but the curse-"

"It won't leave you alone," he supplied immediately.

"Yes..." The word was a weak whisper.

"Some nights I can't stop imagining various ways to die, until my head splits with the sheer indecision of whether to live or to kill," Zeref confessed in a hushed monotone.

Mavis was about to refute his words, remind him of the necessity of life, but she couldn't say a word without feeling like a hypocrite. Instead, she leaned into his arm, resting her head on his shoulder wordlessly. The strain he was bearing was undeniable; present in the way he smiled, touched her, spoke. She couldn't imagine how difficult it must be to balance devaluing life with appreciating it, and though the reality of what he attempted to do to spare the lives of his subjects would've disgusted her years ago, she understood now. Which also disgusted her, in a way.

"I...made you a promise," she reminded him. "Remember?"

"That we would find a way to break our curse," he affirmed neutrally.

"I was serious, Zeref. I still-"

"Mavis," he interrupted her gently, and she winced at the careful emptiness of his tone. "I never expected you to fulfill that promise. You don't-"

"I _want_ to," she insisted. "That was our plan, from the very beginning. And now more than ever, we need to figure out a way!"

"I've tried everything," he asserted somberly. "At first I reasoned that if bringing someone fated to death to life was what caused Ankhseram's mark to be bestowed upon me in the first place, then doing the reverse would lift it. I was desperate, at the time."

Mavis gasped at his implication, but he went on, unfaltering in his dialogue. "When deliberately murdering an innocent didn't work, I attempted every contradiction I could think of. I dabbled in Black magic, studied methods to reach the God of Life and Death, even attempted to pray to him, begging him to lift the curse."

He paused, his mask almost cracking as he remembered the horrors of the crescendo of his frustration. None of the innocents he'd slaughtered had known his carnage had been involuntary; none had survived to tell the story. Brave wizards had risen up against the threat he posed, only to fall to his diabolical magic as he begged them to listen.

"Then, one day, there was a turning point. I realized that the only way out of this wretched prison of a body was to die. Similar to the methodology I employed to break the curse, I tried every way possible to end my life, sometimes emotionally, sometimes rationally. I created scores of demons to do the task—none succeeded. I even programmed several to kill me when I had the effects of my curse under control, hoping my immortality would vanish along with my care for others. Their attempts failed, of course."

Mavis bit her lip, trying to contain her agitation at the thought. _But...when his curse was supressed would've been when he least wanted to die._

Zeref went on in a monotone: "I used sealstone bracelets to suppress my magic power, wondering if my curse and magical ability were related...but I still couldn't die. I was forced to live with the carnage I'd wrought, and only after one too many lives had fallen to my affliction and the merciful calm of apathy visited did I find any peace...if it could be called such. I heard tales of my creations rampaging throughout Ishgar, but they fell on a stone heart. I, myself, am responsible for more deaths than any could tally on the eastern continent. Both accidental and-"

Here he broke off, fighting the seeping poison of the memories with naught but a tarnished soul and a broken defense. He could still remember his first deliberate kill.

"-intentional," he finished, voice distant. No one could've borne the burden of guilt for so much evil—not without killing themselves. Even an immortal was forced to dissociate, or lose all sanity. Like the desperate flailing of a drowning man, every effort to stay above the water had only resulted in digging a deeper hole in the metaphorical pit of guilt and misery. Sometimes the answer appeared to be letting go, relaxing, sinking, hoping the water would bear you to the surface even while knowing it would only drag you down.

Mavis shivered, heedless of the salty wetness tracking her cheeks at the pain he must have experienced. The past was too overwhelming to explore. Her promise to accept him loomed before her heart, and she embraced it, shoving aside the blame of centuries' worth of condescension from a society that couldn't fathom his suffering.

"You're crying for a murderer," Zeref observed detachedly, hearing her sniffle quietly in the dark. Warm tears of his own soaked a patch of the fabric comprising his tunic, a few more to add to the oceans he had caused to flow, but hearing his voice one could barely detect the change.

"Shut up," Mavis sobbed softly, fingers digging into his arm for emphasis as she held his hand with a fervency too dire for words. Too tired to negate his opinion of himself, she said scratchily, "If you could go back to before you attempted to revive your little brother, you can't truly say you would do things differently. When it comes down to it...saving a friend is all that matters at the time."

"I know." His voice was hollow. Feeling him move in the dark, she waited silently until he pressed a piece of metal into her palm, warmed by the heat of his skin and attached to a chain.

"The pendant you were wearing...?" she murmured, remembering that he had never taken it off in all the months they had bathed together.

"It contains a portrait of us side by side, as children."

Mavis thought she could detect a note of wistfulness in his tone. Starting as a flame flickered to life in his left hand, she gazed into his eyes, obscure in the shadows the flickering magical light threw across his face. He inclined his head to the locket, and she opened it carefully. In it, Zeref stood smiling shyly, with his arm inconspicuously wrapped around a boy a few years younger than himself. The flaming pink hair and devil-may-care grin of the youngster was the opposite of Zeref's sensitive intellectualism, separate personalities apparent even in their childish expressions.

"What happened afterwards?" she asked softly, staring at the picture.

"The only method I could implement to revive him was the same Life magic I used to create the Etherious."

Snapping her gaze up to his in abject horror, Mavis whispered, "You recreated him as a demon?"

"I rewrote every facet of his personality that I could remember using demonic script," Zeref affirmed, looking away. The memory of the notebook he had kept close by throughout his childhood, starting the day of his brother's death—a notebook filled with scribblings of each little detail he could remember about Natsu—came to mind. "But by then, it no longer mattered. Time and my own instability had worn away whatever affection I thought I may have held for him. He was...merely a weapon. My magnum opus."

"You won the battle, but lost the war," she said slowly.

"Yes."

Silence reigned supreme, startlingly loud in the darkness of their thoughts. "I'm sorry," Mavis offered, though the words were hopelessly inadequate. "I can understand how you must feel."

"No, don't trouble yourself with it. I hold onto him because he represents the past I thought I could never regain. But perhaps, the future holds better things. Or not," he said uncertainly, unconfident in the validity of his own thoughts. "I...really don't know."

"It's alright," she said immediately. "You don't have to know all the time. All we need to be certain of is the goal we aspire to, disregarding our transiently impetuous motives and holding to decisions we made during clearer times."

"That makes sense, except that it doesn't," Zeref said heavily, and she didn't correct the contradictory observation, for she felt the same.

Mavis squeezed his arm, grateful that she wasn't alone in her pain, and in turn disgusted by that gladness. Pushing her emotions to the side, she said, "I referenced the promise I made to you because I fully intend to follow through with it. We are going to find a way to lift the curse if we have to speak to Ankhseram himself."

"Let's get away from here, Mavis. Just you and I. We can start over again..." There was a hopeful note in his voice, and she latched onto it like a lifeline.

"We can, Zeref. Do you want to leave tomorrow?"

"Yes," he responded, turning to face her on the dark bench.

A light caress of her cheek was the only warning she received before his mouth descended on hers gently, the devastating warmth unraveling her composure and scrambling her already dissonant thoughts beyond recognition. Returning the assault before she was aware of what she was doing, Mavis gave herself up to his knowing touch entirely as the sheet was tugged from her shoulders.

There was salvation in opening up to another, of talking about painful memories long repressed. As long as they could trust one another, the healing process would go on. Even guilt was a necessary emotion.

The next day, the couple would embark on an important mission. But perhaps... Perhaps the goal lay in finding themselves as well as a means of breaking the curse.

Either way, their lives would never be the same afterwards.

...

Across the palace, Irene rocked August back and forth repeatedly, her Enchantment having worn off with her long-overdue decision to stop using magic on the boy. His Majesty had informed her of the child's name, and though she found it odd, she had accepted it graciously and called him by it whenever possible. The babe was not hers, and she was learning to live by that reality. Trying to soothe his screaming exasperatedly, she began humming a low tune near his little ear, inhaling the fresh scent that often somehow reminded her of her sovereign.

She paused in surprise when the child's wailing quieted, sniffling in response to her placating voice. Another minute, and he was staring up at her with unblinking black eyes. At the response she had been hoping for during the entire month of September, her lips curved in a victorious smile, but the baby didn't seem to like the sight of it. Squeezing his eyes shut, he set off squalling again, the pressure in the room increasing along with his immense magic power. Neither light nor dark, she marvelled silently, too accustomed to such unruly tantrums to be annoyed by yet another.

Irene sympathized for the child's parents, wherever they were, watching their baby scream himself hoarse. As with other strange emotions lately, she didn't question the flicker of compassion.

_**A/N:** Thank you to everyone for sticking with this story for so long. I apologize if I gave any of you a scare with last week's update—this chapter's release makes it clear that I intend to continue the story. Mavis and Zeref still have ground to cover before they can let go of their past, not to mention one glaring problem to solve before they can raise their son. I merely wanted to see if you readers thought the plot was dragging on, or had outlived its appeal. Thank you for all the reviews, from followers as well as the guests—I value all of you, and any entertainment I'm able to provide is worth the effort. I'm happy to receive any writing tips to better my work. On the other hand, if you like it how it is, that's the biggest compliment I could receive so...thank you._


	17. Chapter 17: For Worse, Or Better

Mavis stretched groggily, the motion bringing a familiar release of endorphins as her stiff muscles lengthened reluctantly. Sitting up in bed, she witnessed the first orange rays of the impatient morning sun slant through the chilly air in the chamber, setting the wall furthest from the window ablaze with its cheery glow. The blanket fell to her waist. She was reminded of her nakedness as the cool air swept across the tips of her breasts, but the fact was hardly a novelty. Regeneration had reliably erased the physical proof of the previous night's events from her body—however, the memories remained, ghosting her skin with phantoms of a warm touch and inquisitive mouth.

Looking down at Zeref, who could sleep past noon some days if no one disturbed his rest, she delayed her industrious nature and impulsively snuggled into his invitingly warm body in defiance of the day ahead. He murmured unintelligibly as she cocooned the blanket around them, letting the combined heat of their bare skin warm her.

An hour or so later, when the sun was higher in the sky and she was blissfully toasty, Mavis set about waking him up. Nuzzling his neck ardently, she moved on to the sensitive little spot beneath his ear when he didn't stir. She smiled to herself as he shifted in response to the stimuli, peppering the young line of his jaw with little kisses and pausing when she reached his lax mouth to graze it softly.

"...Mavis?" Zeref was finally pulled into consciousness, lured by the delicate touch of her lips on his. He went taut beneath her the moment awareness hit his sleep-fogged brain, remembering all he'd revealed the previous night. A sudden wave of anxiety made his heart lurch in his chest, but his face showed none of it. His body mocked his fear by pulsing to life regardless of his mind's hesitancy, insisting upon plaguing him with a simmer of desire that never quite vanished whenever he was around his paramour.

"Wake up, sleepyhead," Mavis said tenderly, making no move to get out of bed herself as she drew a leg over his.

She wasn't acting any differently. At the insight that the previous evening's confessions hadn't irreparably damaged their relationship—an observation supported by a lack of the slightest change in the way she treated him—he relaxed beneath her slowly.

"Something about this scenario feels familiar," he yawned pensively, as she warmed her nose on his neck.

"Déjà vu," she agreed cheerfully, lifting her head. "We have an important day ahead of us. It's time to move on to the next- _oof, _what are you doing?!"

Zeref had flipped Mavis to her back neatly, ignoring her startled protest as he leaned down to nibble her delectable neck with studious intent. Shivering in honest pleasure, she shifted her head to allow him better access even as she insisted, "We were supposed to get a relatively early start this morning, remember?"

"And we will," he replied, leisurely shaping his fingers around one tender breast as he settled between her legs. "Nine o'clock is quite early for me."

"Chronologically speaking, allowing for twelve hours of rest from sundown to sunup, it's actually- mmpf-" She broke off as he kissed her deeply, searching her mouth with clever forays of his tongue until she was breathless with need beneath him.

"If you move the start of the twelve hour period from eighteen hundred hours to midnight, it's actually quite early," he stated mildly. "But both our stances are flawed because we haven't determined the meaning of the word 'relative' in this context."

Mavis ignored his argument in favor of tugging his head back down to hers, and the room was mostly silent for the next half hour.

...

"You're leaving, Your Majesty?" Irene repeated dubiously. She had been surprised he had stayed for as long as he did, but it still nonplussed her that he would leave his son in the care of Alcazar's staff alone. Zeref had been uncharacteristically overprotective of August up until this point.

"Indeed I am," he affirmed quietly, and the distance he was standing from her drew attention to his affliction. The delicate feminine scent of the girl residing in his chambers permeated his body despite its characteristic cleanliness, reaching Irene's sensitive draconic nose from across the hall, and she suppressed a smirk. She knew why he would want to leave Vistarion if his mental state was growing unstable; having been aware of his obscure curse for almost as long as she had known him, the decision shouldn't have come as a surprise to her. It was a shame he couldn't come within ten yards of his own child.

"I noticed August's condition hasn't stabilized," he remarked, searching her gaze with deceptive nonchalance.

"He needs his parents," she said bluntly. "The boy was born with immense magic power, perhaps even enough to inherit pre-temporal memories of those who gave him life."

Zeref blinked, eyes narrowing slightly. "Such a phenomenon is nearly unheard of in the wizarding world."

"Yet certainly not impossible, and at present it seems to be a valid explanation of why he would be missing something he never experienced personally, does it not?"

Slowly, Zeref responded, "An interesting theory, Irene, but I must go. I place you in charge of my son's safety in my absence. The palace is well-guarded, but should it strike your fancy I give you leave to orchestrate as many of my personal guard as you please."

"I must admit I'm honored, Your Majesty."

"I'm uncertain of when I will return. Ensure he is well-fed, clothed, and healthy." He paused, unused to requesting personal favors from another, much less so the protection of one he loved. "Remember he is human, and fragile."

"Understood," she complied smoothly. It was fortunate that the child was finally overcoming his disdain of her.

...

After a meeting with Frore and a few of his Shields to inform them of his indefinite absence and grant the authority to proceed with the regulation of the imperial government in his absence, Zeref stood in front of the security lacrima. Mavis was by his side once more, wearing an illusory black outfit that suited her concerned frown. The atmosphere was sober. August was crying again, and the poignant noise spoke to an awakened parental need deep in both their hearts to comfort him. She made a fist, vowing, "We're not abandoning you. We'll be back soon...I promise. I love you, August."

Feeling the pressure of death in the air, Zeref echoed the sentiment, swallowing against an ache in his throat. Deactivating the lacrima, he looked down into Mavis's eyes. She was determined, and the sight drove away a small fraction of his own unease. "Is this what you want?" he asked in a hushed voice.

"Yes. The first of a new month... It's a good day to start a journey. Let's go back to the start."

"You and I," he said, and she nodded, a hopeful glimmer flickering to life in her eyes. "Mavis, there's something I wanted to tell you."

She waited for him to go on, the silence more encouraging than words could be.

"This quest isn't entirely purposeless—or rather, without destination. I've read extensively about legends in ancient records over the past month, and I learned..." A hesitant pause. "I learned that others were cursed."

A small intake of breath marked the news, and he refocused his vacant gaze to see Mavis rapidly processing the significance of the information. "Wait. No. What kind of cursed, Zeref? Cursed like- like..."

"...us," he finished, a quiet affirmative. "I had heard the myths before, but I'd always assumed they referred to a different variety of wrath, from a different nature of god. It occured to me recently that I may have been wrong."

"So this is what our quest is about?" She didn't sound judgemental, or pessimistic. Rather, a hint of approval had begun to creep into her tone.

Zeref met her gaze squarely. "I won't answer definitively, because I don't know whether we'll find what we seek. But since we must exile ourselves regardless, I see no reason why we can't attempt to seek out the source of the legends."

Mavis understood what was left unspoken. That theirs was a task as likely to succeed as an ant carrying a kernel of corn up a smooth wall; a Sisyphean endeavor, bearing an indefatigable retribution for perseverance. If a mind as inquisitive as she knew Zeref's to be hadn't discovered a means of breaking his curse when provided with no end of _motive_ for three agonizing centuries...

But they could try. They could always try, she reminded herself, and reached for his hand in resignation. Their fingers locked lightly.

Clasping her wrists, then forearms, he drew her into his arms carefully. She stepped onto the top of his boots with her own bare feet, nestling her head against his chest as she wrapped her arms around him firmly. Feeling the vortex of Black magic around them grow as the familiarly impatient runes circled the air, she shut her eyes tightly as color and light blurred into one indiscernible conglomeration and the peculiar sensation of floating overtook her. Through the nauseating disorientation of going in every direction, Zeref was the only unchanging mass in her vicinity, and she grasped him like a drowning person.

Slowly, the dizzying feeling faded, leaving Mavis's stomach in a knot as she panted for breath. Gradually becoming aware of her surroundings, she glanced around at the yellowing leaves bending to a light autumn breeze, at the late morning sun still at work to banish the dew covering the moss on the forest floor in so many shimmers of light. Realizing she was still squeezing Zeref, she released him apologetically, wobbling a little from a lingering sense of dizziness. His hands were at her elbows instantly, steadying her, and she held a hand to her mouth in an effort to quell her disagreeable stomach.

"Photosensitivity, nausea and vertigo are side effects which those unfamiliar with Teleportation spells often experience," he explained, a touch apologetically.

"I'm alright," she said after a moment, forcing a smile to her lips. At this point she was fairly certain she wasn't going to hurl, despite the mixed signals her tummy was sending. "So, where are we?"

"In a forest several kilometers west of Vistarion. Alvarez doesn't incorporate the entirety of Alakitasia, though we're growing rapidly as more guilds and independent states unite underneath our banner. You and I should be outside the borders soon, provided we follow a path that is largely unpopulated."

Mavis nodded vacantly, taking in the sight of the foliage around her. She didn't ask him to define "soon," nor did she inquire where they were going; there was no need. Breathing the fresh air deeply, she exhaled, feeling more freedom than she had in weeks. Stepping closer to Zeref, she slipped her hand into his larger one, enjoying the feeling of oneness the gesture brought. Looking up at those fathomless eyes, she smiled warmly. "I was sick of feeling hopeless. I guess this is a fresh start for us—let's find a way to break this old curse."

His lips parted at her vivacious declaration, and he tightened his hand over hers in response. "Let's," he agreed, and his voice quavered with incredulous hope. It was a throwback to the old days of travelling side by side—only this time, their proportion was how it was meant to be. Perhaps they could find an ending, after all. All they had to do was battle the sinister voice of darkness whispering their quest was hopeless.

...

"Are you sure they'll be able to look after August properly in our absence?" Mavis asked worriedly, watching the rippling current of the lifeless creek in front of them flow by. The couple sat cross-legged on the bank, surrounded by dead grass and leafless trees.

"I have faith in Irene," he replied, observing the corpse of a colorful fish float by with subdued contrition. Caring for life was a painful experienced, and he often found himself wishing he could wish that he didn't. That desire was then replaced by guilt and renewed love for the life around him, and the miserable cycle would repeat itself. Then there was Mavis, the girl who not only contradicted the curse's power but insisted upon his ability to do the same.

"I just...have a bad feeling about this all of a sudden," she said quietly, staring into the stream as though the intensity of her eyes could bring the aquatic fauna back to life. Thunder rumbled in the distance, slicing through dark gray clouds where they condensed in preparation for a chilly fall rainstorm. The huddled figures on the bank didn't move, sitting side by side as they waited for the first drops to fall.

"I won't pretend as though I'm not worried. But honestly, Mavis, there was little else we could do but exile ourselves. We _knew..._we always knew that this time would come."

Shivering as a pellet of rain dampened her braided hair, she nodded in mute agreement. "I thought getting away from it all would create a sense of freedom. And it did, at first...but everything around me is still dying. At least- At least these animals and plants aren't people." Mavis cringed as she realized the horrors she had referenced, and fell silent.

"Such is the affliction we bear," Zeref said quietly. "I'm sorry. You should never have been forced to stand beneath the weight of this fate."

She didn't respond, frowning as she recalled the domino train of events that had preceded the current moment. "Yet even if I could go back, I wouldn't want you to suffer alone."

"Don't," he said suddenly, and the humorless order made her blink in dull surprise. "You don't know what you're saying."

The rain thickened, pebbling the water with a thousand craters that filled almost the instant the droplet causing the dent joined the larger mass. The fresh taste of clean rainwater moistened her lips as her skin was scourged with the downpour. Illusory clothing was just that—an illusion, and she felt every facet of the ground beneath her as well as the punishing needles of cold as though she were wearing nothing at all.

A memory resurfaced unbidden, of running through the empty streets of Magnolia the day she fled the guildhall as the sky thundered with righteous anger. That day felt like a century ago, she thought suddenly, and the crippling wave of emotional anguish that followed the recollection forced her to clench her teeth in determined apathy. The past was in the past, and there it would stay. _Don't think about it. Don't give it the license to destroy you._

But...

"If you could go back," she said slowly, and Zeref started at the familiar wistfulness the words imposed, "what would you change?"

As per usual with matters he was inclined to interpret seriously, he lent the question a few moments of thought. "History is what makes us who we are today—including our desires—so I understand that the question is theoretically flawed, but I have an immense aversion to myself at present so I..." Here he trailed off, reluctant to stir old memories needlessly. There were many things he didn't discuss with her, simply because he had been over them countless times in his own head and the prospect of doing so again with another was exhausting.

Nonetheless, he forged ahead. "I would try to prevent myself from provoking the wrath of Ankhseram. And...I would ensure my family wasn't slaughtered the day the dragons attacked our village. Instead of waiting until the threat of Acnologia was too powerful to readily defeat, I would have trained with Natsu and perhaps we could have slain him together." The chilling rain washed away the impurities of his skin, but not the poison of regret clouding his mind.

Mavis looked down, not bothering to brush the wet bangs from her eyes as her nails dug into her right arm painfully. "If memories are what made you, wishing you could go back in time to rewrite history _is_ paradoxical. What people really want when they wish they could time travel is the ignorance often associated with the happiness that they possessed, before the events occured that shaped them into who they are at present; they forget that the very discernment they possess now—that will help them mold their past into one they think they could live with—is the factor that will deny them happiness. The memories will still live in your mind."

Zeref understood what she was saying, and his mouth hardened with subtle obstinacy. "Nonetheless, I could have prevented a great many things that hurt those around me from happening. This curse, for instance."

"That may be true, or it may not." Her voice was clear and guileless, but in it he recognized the wisdom of one who had experienced immense hardship firsthand. "The child that you were would still have the easily influenced mind of an eight-year-old, and were you to go back, you may end up persuading yourself to continue your research. Or you could succeed in preventing the curse from being bestowed upon you, but even then your memory would still be intact. The very reason you know what to avoid if you could go back is the same reason you would be miserable if you did so. A person is the sum of their reactions... In that way, it's an oxymoron."

"You're attempting to convince me that it's important not to blame oneself for the things one has done in the past. Your premise is that I didn't know at the time what I know now, so it's unfair to judge myself by the same standards," Zeref stated simply, dissecting her intentions.

She looked at him then, water dripping from her chin freely, and gave a miniscule nod. "What I'm attempting to convince you, Zeref, is to live for the present and the future. Not because fear from the past drives you. What if the meaning of life lies in the process, as much as it does in the end result?"

After another moment of meditation, he mentioned quietly, "I've always lived because I had no other option. Everything I do is to escape pain; every action I take, every positive I pursue, is to counter a negative."

"You mean you've never done something simply for the positive reward?" Her voice was disbelieving, but the look in her eyes betrayed the dismay she felt for his sake.

"I...I don't know," Zeref mused, brow furrowing. "I don't think so. Not since I was cursed."

"Pain is an excellent motivator," she said dully, looking away from his haunted black eyes. The flicker of sorrow was gone, replaced by exhaustion. The monotonous pattern of rain filled their ears.

"I invented time travel, when I was a child," he broke the silence casually. "I called the magical object that utilized that power the Eclipse Gate. I had hoped to find a way to go backwards, and was quite disappointed when I discovered the gate could only transfer you further along the timeline. It would make sense, as time has never been known to digress backwards, but I believed common universal laws held no absolute jurisdiction over the capacity us mortals had to break them. Furthermore, it could only open if there was a Celestial Spirit wizard on either end of the temporal strait..."

Zeref's voice trailed off. His monologue had held a spark of interest at first, but then the glimmer of life faded with the last few words and he appeared to be bored with the topic. The abjectness of his failure was also evident in his voice, but for a moment all Mavis could comprehend was the genius of the mind before her. She almost spoke the words, but bit them back at the last moment due to the distinct feeling that he would disregard them instantly. It wasn't exasperating, that knowledge; just a fact about his personality to which she could relate all too well herself.

Feeling depressed, she moved to rise to her feet. Zeref stood as well, his robes plastered to his skin from the deluge. It had tapered to a cold, drizzling rain. "Are you feeling well?" he asked blandly, searching her face for signs of her current mental state. She understood the unspoken meaning of the inquiry: _Did I say too much?_ "It was never my intention to sadden you."

Mavis remembered the echo of the words he had spoken soon after she'd met him for the first time by the lake outside of Magnolia. He hadn't wanted to "sadden" her then, either. "No, Zeref," she burst out, suddenly irritated at the world for being so cruel to him that he had lost himself in it several centuries before her birth. "You didn't make me sad. In fact, if I'm sad it's only because you're so deceived you can't see your own light. If I'm sad it's because the world has beaten you down until you reacted with shame in lieu of violence and would rather die than do anything else to harm it! If-"

Clenching her fists absentmindedly, her face twisted, tears springing to her eyes. He stood looking at her with that wrenchingly familiar lost stare, as though incredulous that her tears were for him. The volatile emotion fled as suddenly as it had arrived, and Mavis was left with the cold knowledge of what she was beginning to fear she could never fix. Glancing around them at the dead trees and empty forest, she slowly looked down at her own hands. They were clean and ivory-white, but in her eyes, nothing could wash the crimson stain of blood from them.

_You are a hypocrite, Mavis Vermillion. Or perhaps it's only the curse..._

As though Zeref could read her mind, she felt warm fingers underneath her chin, lifting her bleak gaze to the stoic face of the man before her. "Could it be you're saying to me what you need to hear yourself, Mavis? I'm certain you understand that you are not exempt from the laws you impose on others. You want me to forgive myself, but you're contradicting your own argument by believing that the very reasons that I should do so don't apply to you. I can't cast blame...for I bear the same affliction."

"This isn't the first time we've come across this problem, is it?" she murmured with a touch of levity. "I feel as though we should name it."

"It's a lovers' paradox," he supplied. "It is also present in the fact that our happiness seems to be contingent on that of the other's. The only issue with that-"

"-is that one of us must break the cycle and be happy first," Mavis caught on.

"I admire your mind," he observed quietly, sliding his fingers from her chin to her neck. Seeing the desolation of her eyes, he shut his own, resolving then and there to bring back the cheerful smile that had epitomized her character the day they'd met. "You've taught me not to assume that all is hopeless merely because I haven't found the answer thus far. I don't know what lies ahead, nor how to overcome the obstacles that stand in our way. But let us meet them...hand in hand."

"Yes," she whispered.

It was all that was left to do.

Unlike the day she had set out on this excursion, she felt neither optimistic hope nor crushing defeat of a task not yet attempted, but instead an acknowledgement that both were incorrect. There was heartache and there was joy in the world, but life included an often disproportionate mixture of both. Perhaps, someday, she could bring herself to accept that painful truth.

...

Three weeks after they had begun their ambiguous expedition, well into the month of October, Zeref and Mavis had wearied of being so far apart from their child. Consciously aware of every passing day and the time-sensitive nature of their journey, they couldn't stop themselves from worrying about his development constantly. The one comfort they were allowed was each other, and it was their bond that kept their sanity somewhat intact. They traveled together during the day, and slept together at night between the open sky and hard ground. And though Mavis hadn't precisely thought there was nothing more to learn about the nature of love, she was still amazed every time a new discovery was made.

The continent of Alakitasia was further north than Ishgar, which resulted in colder average temperatures for the earlier months of the year's end. Despite her tolerance for the weather, Mavis disliked bearing the cold unless she had to, and Zeref would often perceptively start a magical fire for her to warm herself. During one such evening, she stood across from him over the unnatural flames, holding her chilled hands over their wonderful heat. He watched her quietly, reading the fatigue drooping her shoulders and the continual aura of tenseness surrounding her.

As she glanced up from the bright depths of the fire and into his eyes, she asked quickly, "What is it?"

"Nothing," Zeref answered, jolted from his scrutiny. "You seem tired, is all."

"I'm honestly fine."

"Really, Mavis?" He wouldn't have pried a month or so earlier, but during their recent time together he had grown to be in tune with her every mood.

She blinked.

He waited.

"...No," she gave in quietly. "I can't stop these irrational thoughts. Or rather, it's precisely because I can stop them now that I'm upset. One day I won't be able to, and-"

Rather than being confused by her jumbled words, he understood them all too well. "Keep your mind on the present," he reminded her, echoing a paraphrase of her earlier words.

"I know. But every time I think it will get better, everything catches up to me." Letting him see the haunted depths of her eyes, she said, "I've almost stopped recognizing myself, Zeref."

He swallowed, disturbed by her words more than he would have been if they were irrelevant ideas he could distance himself from. "I still recognize you," he said in a low voice, even as something inside him was repulsed by her every word. He wanted her, yet-

In moments of strong feeling, he was also compelled in the opposite direction of whatever emotion he attempted to embrace. He had grown closer to Mavis in the last few weeks than anyone he had ever known, but that bond imposed seemingly unavoidable side effects. He found himself wishing his curse would stay constant, rather than vacillate between bearable and insane without so much as a warning. _Why am I seeking help from someone who is drowning in the same lake I'm in? Is this the cost for being able to understand one another?_

"I'm tired," a strained female voice cut into his frantic thoughts. "Could we go to sleep now?"

He nodded, untying his toga and spreading it on the ground before unfolding a blanket from the small pack he wore across his back. It also contained a communication lacrima and a change of clothes for Mavis, in case she decided she'd rather wear them. He didn't care about physical convenience but he did want to preserve some semblance of it for her, regardless of whether she placed importance on her own comfort. Slipping into the makeshift bed, he lay on his back, crossing his arms behind his head neutrally in a silent invitation. She joined him without hesitation, pressing her back against his side and pulling the blanket around her neck. In a few minutes she was breathing softly, but Zeref still lay awake, compiling the infinite stars into his own unique constellations and tracking the moon's progress across the night sky as the magical fire died beside them.

He awoke an indeterminate amount of time later to the quiet moaning of the girl beside his body, unaware that sleep had claimed him. He tensed immediately, reflexes alight for battle, before he realized it must be a dream that was disturbing her sleep. Turning to his side, he reached toward her shoulder without thinking. His hand froze in mid-air as she mumbled a few words. "I'm right here...don't cry, I'm not-"

Shaking her head as though she couldn't pronounce the words correctly or loudly enough, she tried again. "Zeref-"

He forgot his hesitation as he saw tears escape her closed eyelids, pulling her into his arms to hold her face against his chest in instinctive protectiveness. Mavis's body jerked as she fell into consciousness. The reality of where she was slowly set in, but it wasn't enough to quench the flow of grief. Zeref said nothing, merely held her close, until she choked, "You th-thought I would never wake up, when you used Glitter—I wish I could tell you I would never-"

"Hush," he said gently, letting the front of his tunic absorb her tears. "I didn't have enough faith in you. That...was my fault."

"It wasn't only that. I kept seeing their faces...I killed them! I can't believe I ever felt as though it didn't matter too much-"

"Mavis," he interrupted her, "You know why you shouldn't blame yourself."

"I know, but I don't feel," she choked, and the words cut straight to his heart. "I want to reach a place where I'm free from all pain."

Zeref didn't reply, remembering all the times throughout his miserable existence he had wished for precisely the same state. He wanted to tell her she would find it, but a kind lie could prove to be far crueller than the hard truth.

"I wish my memories could be erased," she whispered. Then, "No, that is a selfish wish, one without the power to bring back the dead."

"Don't discount your memories so easily," he warned. "I'm certain many of them are far brighter than my own."

She thought for a moment, burrowing her nose into his tunic to warm it on his chest. "You're probably right," she hiccuped softly. "I had forgotten my friends for a moment. And you."

"What became of them?" Zeref's voice held a genuine note of curiosity, and she felt a flicker of relief to finally have someone to unburden herself to.

"I fled the guildhall...the day I killed Yuri's wife. I never returned. It was written in my will that Precht should become the Second Master should anything happen to me, so I suppose he is. They've probably been looking for me..."

"They're strong," Zeref reassured her, surprised to realize the words were true as he spoke them. "Especially Precht. From what I recall, his fortitude lay in his ability to see situations pragmatically and make the most of them. You needn't worry."

Mavis fell silent, marveling at the warmth of his arms around her as well as what was abundant in his voice. It was difficult to believe that someone understood who she was, yet still cared for her so deeply.

"Thank you," she said softly, but he was lost in the remembrance of his own crushing confusion the day he'd fled the Mildian Academy of Magic, leaving the building littered with the corpses of every teacher and student who happened to be there when his curse was activated. Mavis was lucky to have escaped with just one life lost. He didn't say it aloud, but she felt him tense almost imperceptibly, and knew he had remembered something.

"What is it?"

He hesitated, as if weighing whether to confide in her. "The day my curse was activated, no one at the Academy made it out alive."

Mavis sucked in a breath, a sharp pang of sympathy reverberating through her chest. Though the tears on her face were not quite dry and she was exhausted, somehow harnessing strength to give to someone else was easier than doing the same for herself. It was only natural to fight his fears. "You don't still think what happened that day was your fault, do you?"

"I had every warning to stop provoking the God of Life and Death. I didn't listen, set in my own stubborn ways."

She opened her mouth to tell him he never could've foreseen the outcome of his experiment and he was not to blame for the lives he had taken, but bit her lip with a bruising force as she recognized the hypocrisy of the words.

"For ages I wandered this earth, and everything I could ever love withered and died around me. Life appeared as dark as a world without the sun..." He trailed off. "But then, I found you. You didn't leave as the rest had."

Centuries' worth of hardened pain was present in his voice, but she caught the undercurrent of hope in it as well. There was a light shining at the end of the tunnel for both of them; they had only to avoid being distracted by hardships along the way.

"So now it's your turn to promise, Mavis."

"...Yes?"

"Never attempt to leave this world. Not without me...please."

"I promise," she said in a cracked voice, annoying tears running over her nose invasively.

"I was heading towards a dark place again before we met," he said quietly. "I never want to be caught in such a web again."

_If you are, I'll be here,_ she thought silently. She was about to voice the words when Zeref broke the moment to suggest, "Get some rest, if you can." As he turned her over to to spoon her back against his front, she felt the fear of the dream linger at the edge of her consciousness and knew she wouldn't be able to sleep anytime soon.

Shifting restlessly, she looked back to discern his expression—and his mouth grazed her own unexpectedly in the dark. Stilling at the warmth of his lips on hers, she felt her heart begin to pound recklessly. Contradicting his earlier advice, he suddenly intensified the accidental contact, pulling her further back against his chest so he would have better access to her mouth. Both their pulses thrummed to life, and there was no doubt as to what would happen next.

Before Mavis could flip over and face him head-on, she felt a dark magic oppose her own. The next instant her illusory clothing was dispelled. _How...?_ she almost wanted to ask via Telepathy, but was quickly distracted by his hand cupping her breast. Gasping at the pleasurable touch, she jolted ticklishly when he smoothed over the taut plane of her stomach to brush the curls at the apex of her thighs. She spread them automatically, anticipation making her lightheaded with desire, and he nudged a leg between hers. His other arm pinned her upper body to his as he massaged her sensitive womanhood lightly. Physical need, and a dire urge to quench the audio of both their thoughts, stripped any inhibitions he may have held and imbued his movements with uncharacteristic demand. Stiffening in incipient pleasure as her lubrication coated his fingers, Mavis felt her opening smart with painful arousal.

Clutching Zeref's hip with one hand, she broke away from their consuming kiss, panting for breath as she rocked against the prominent bulge in his trousers. He tensed as she felt for their opening, struggling with the button that was straining against the tight fabric. He didn't reach to help her, hand faltering in its manipulation of her slick nub as she tenaciously tugged at the zipper. Nuzzling her neck as she succeeded in freeing his aching arousal, he inhaled sharply when she wrapped her hand around him gently. The dizzying feeling of having such power over Zeref was heady, as was the unique sensation of grasping hardness wrapped in softness—but she needed him inside her more than anything else.

Spreading her thigh further over the top of his, Mavis had barely begun to position his tip when he pitched forward harshly, sheathing himself in her wet heat without hesitation. It was intensity incarnate, the essence of all their previous declarations put into action. She arched her back involuntarily, mouth open in a silent cry as she struggled to accommodate the heavy slide.

"I'm sorry," Zeref gasped near her ear, tightening his arm around her ribcage as his dazed mind remembered to let her adjust to the internal pressure. "Sorry..."

In a flash, her subconscious interpreted that he wasn't apologizing for the pain alone. Her only response was to reach behind her head to thread pleading fingers through his thick hair.

"More," she begged on a sob of breath.

At that, he guided her jaw with one hand and caught her open lips with his own, impelling himself ever deeper into her accepting body. His movements denied all trace of the apology his soul was steeped in. They kissed recklessly, as though they could devour one another, heedless of the bruising grind of soft lips against hard enamel or the uncomfortable angle of neck tendons stretched to the side.

Every dark secret they revealed to each other only served to draw them inevitably closer, deepening the bond where some would think the revelations would weaken it. And each new sunrise saw them closer still, in defiance of the deathly magic conniving to drive them apart. Incredulous in their heightened need for each another, they moved as one, exchanging pleasure with every undulation. Zeref rocked between Mavis's thighs, filling her tight depths again and again while he ravaged her mouth, ignoring his chest's insistent burn for air as he forgot to breathe. Finally, the slow suffocation made him release her addictive lips. Her hands went to the arm around her ribcage, clutching it as though it was the only raft in the ocean of burning delight she found herself drowning in.

The crucial moment before she shattered into a million pieces of bliss, she bit her lip savagely to hold back a wanton cry. As though determined to tear it from her, he paired a few circling strokes of her clit in counterpoint to an especially strong thrust and felt her come undone around him with an unrestrained moan. The sound wrenched his own pinnacle from him, her walls wringing the seed from his shaft with crushing force as his vision flashed white. Shaking in prolonged delight that bordered on pain, Mavis grabbed the hand between her thighs reflexively as Zeref persistently rubbed her softness until every gentle pass of his fingers made her jerk in hypersensitivity. Even then, he didn't stop until he'd teased the last bit of pleasure from her.

Slowly, her grip on his arm eased as she slackened against his body bonelessly, chest heaving as she caught her breath. Swimming with hormones, she lay still, not noticing the stickiness of their mingled sweat or the throbbing pain of her tender lower region that had yet to repair. "When we're together..." she said breathlessly, "...you make me glad I can't die."

"I feel the same," he responded, his voice a husky murmur that teased her senses. Tightening his slackened arm around her in wordless reassurance, Zeref removed his hand from her drenched heat with care. Hearing him lick it clean, Mavis's face flamed heatedly and she was grateful for the forgiving cover of night. Spooning her small body against his larger one snugly, he lay in the soothing aftermath of their intercourse.

The pain the memories had brought was no longer invasive. Neither could notice it at the moment, the darkness having receded in the face of a brighter light. Exhausted, Mavis succumbed to the lull of sleep, eyes falling shut without conscious intent to do so as her body healed around Zeref's shaft slowly. Half-wishing he had removed his tunic so he could feel the smooth expanse of her back against his chest, he followed her into the temporary void of dreamless sleep.

But some memories were not meant to be ignored, and some evildoers were not meant to find rest. Sleep was fitful and evasive for both of them. As they stirred against each other in the earliest, darkest hour of the next morning, the flames of desire were kindled once more. Neither was aware of precisely when the restless shifting became grinding, when the shaft within Mavis hardened insatiably, but they were moving together before they were fully awake. It had become a ritual, an antidote to the pain, a pleasure to disguise the symptoms of a deeper malady. A method to preserve their sanity.

...

The next morning, Mavis didn't awake until the October sun was high in the sky and its gentle warmth reigned down upon her. The weak heat helped chase away the cold from one of the first few chilly nights of the year. Pushing the blanket past her chest in preparation to sit up, she felt Zeref's arms around her, as well as their naked skin and his heat within, and memories of the previous night rushed to mind. Feeling her cheeks darken with warmth, she sat up to gently disentangle her body from his. Covering him with the blanket tenderly, she decided to let him sleep a while longer and walked towards a nearby waterhole, needing to clear her head with a cold bath.

Ignoring the familiar sight of dead trees, deciduous vines, shrubs and a few small squirrels, she couldn't prevent the pang of remorse she felt for the life they had so easily snuffed out. Waking this morning had felt different, however, and she tried to place her finger on it. Some part of her felt hypocritical. It was after long labyrinths of thought that Mavis remembered how she'd made Zeref promise not to attempt to end his life. Yet...hadn't she implied during their voyage to Alakitasia that she would be willing for him to die if it was the only way he could find peace? Her whole being rebelled at the thought, and she was forced to come to a conclusion.

"I couldn't let him go," she said to the pool slowly, disregarding her nudity to wade into the chilled water with a shudder—not because of the cold, but at how she had managed to deceive herself for as long as she had._ I could never let him go. Does that make me a selfish monster?_ The admittance rocked her to her very core, and she immediately began setting out to justify herself. _He means too much to me...so I couldn't let him find peace if he had a chance? This has to be the curse! Or perhaps there is love in selfishness, but that sounds paradoxical. Yet-_

At the light sound of footsteps, she looked up quickly to see the familiar sight of the subject of her thoughts standing near the edge of the pond, fully dressed. Something in her expression must have given her away, for Zeref asked as though he'd been expecting her reaction, "What's wrong? You look perturbed. Was I- Did I hurt you?"

Her cheeks flamed at his artless sincerity. "No, no, it's not _that._ You were perfect. I just..." Squaring her shoulders, she decided to come clean. "I understand what you meant now, that night on the schooner's deck. You told me that my willingness to relinquish you to the possibility of peace, at my own misfortune, was where we differed. That you knew you could never let me go."

At the reminder, he stiffened almost visibly, a breeze disturbing the natural drape of his toga. His face held a familiar blankness. Before he could look away, Mavis hurried on, "I have to tell you that I...I was wrong. I couldn't let you go. I'm- so sorry, Zeref. I was a hypocrite for believing otherwise. I know now that you mean too much to-"

He was wading into the brisk water before she could finish, heedless of the chill as it soaked his robes thoroughly. Drawing her shivering form into his arms, he held her wordlessly, cradling her head against his chest.

"I love you so much it's my greatest desire that you live, no matter what. But that sounds terribly selfish when I think about it." Her voice was muffled by his clothing.

"I know," he said, his normally calm voice thick with nameless emotion. "But isn't all love inherently selfish? It is a reflection of how _you_ feel, of what _you_ want for that person. One cannot say 'I love you' without first saying the 'I'."

Mavis sputtered in dissent, feeling he was wrong despite the logic she intrinsically knew was abundant in his words. Slowly, she saw what he meant and couldn't truly deny it. "But there is such a thing as love," she said instead, needing to hear him say the words.

"Of course," Zeref said softly. "Wishing for another to live beyond what it may cost you and heedless of what it may cost them is as selfless as it is selfish. Selfless, because the desire is founded in the hope that they will one day overcome their pain and experience the happiness that you were never able to grasp."

"So there is common selfishness and then there is selfish love—also known as 'love'?" she asked, needing to clarify the two.

"From what I have observed," he affirmed. "It used to be my firm belief that the latter did not truly exist in any form...but you have opened my eyes to many things."

Mavis pulled away, searching his gaze for his true feelings. She found them, unguarded and clearly discernible. "Selfish or no," she said softly, "you are a kind man and I love you."

He drew a breath. "I can't believe you still hold that opinion of me, after what I've done and all these months-"

"I love you," she overrode his doubts firmly. "And I see now that nothing could change that. If we never broke the curse, if you went insane and began a killing rampage-" she ignored his cringe, aware that they may never break their curse though the possibility was nearly too awful to voice, and went on bravely "-and if the world I hold so dear burned down around us, I wouldn't be able to stop following or loving you."

"You don't know what you're saying," Zeref breathed, quickly realizing that emotion this profound exceeded the bounds of mere compassion.

"I think I do," she countered softly, eyes filling with a light sheen of tears. "I'm not saying you couldn't break my heart; only that if you did, it would still be yours."

He made a guttural noise, something caught between protest and incredulity. Holding her cheeks as he searched her gaze speechlessly, Mavis was reminded of the first time he had ever done so, as dusk had fallen in the cursed forest they had somehow made their own. She held his wrists to her face. Like then, their lips met gently. Like then, there was not an organism alive in their immediate vicinity. Like then, they were filled with wonder at the love in their hearts that defied all odds.

But unlike then, they were coming together with a firm certainty in at least one thing: that they would never part. Dependency wasn't weakness. Feeling a teardrop against his hand, Zeref pulled away, wiping the moisture from her cheeks as he offered a tremulous smile. "I have been wanting to ask you something for a while now, Mavis."

She stared up at him quizzically, wondering what it could be. Suddenly interpreting the meaning of the words, spoken with a touch of diffidence that set off the dormant warning bells in the back of her mind, her face changed as a realization made her head spin unsteadily.

"Yes, Zeref?"

_**A/N:** Hello again! Next week's chapter will be rather...well, you'll see. Thank you so much to all who have favorited, followed and reviewed._


	18. Chapter 18: Your Greatest Enemy

"I don't know what our futures hold, nor how much time we will have together. I cannot even promise to love you forever, for the very nature of my curse may make that desire an impossibility. But there is one future I can promise, and that is the one where I do everything in my power to protect you. You were the best thing that ever happened to my wretched existence." The soft lull of Zeref's voice paused for a beat, as though the prelude had preceded something far more direct.

"Mavis, will you marry me?"

The quiet water around them seemed to reflect the meaning of the question until it reverberated through Mavis's mind with thought-stopping velocity.

Eyes widening, her mouth formed a circle as perfect as little August's as she tried to catch hold of a reply amidst the swirling mayhem of racing feelings. "Yes," she answered, just as simply, experiencing a mad urge to laugh and cry at once. She did neither, staring up at his face in amazement. A shadow seemed to lift from his features, and a tentative expression formed from the soft smoke of acceptance.

Relief.

It was then that she realized he hadn't taken her affirmative response for granted. He might have even expected her to turn his proposition down, though for what reason, Mavis had no idea.

Before she could ponder the thought further Zeref was cupping the back of her head in one palm to kiss her intently. He found her left hand where it rested against his chest, the texture of his fingers soft against hers. Moments later she felt a smooth, warm circle slip over her ring finger.

Mavis pulled away as her eyes flew open, sensing his well-hidden flicker of amusement as she took inventory of the delicately wrought piece of jewelry by the light of the morning sun. It was crafted with white gold, intricate vines twining over the top in a sinuous labyrinth of beauty—no, not vines. Her eyes widened as she realized they were dancing fairies. At the top was a small, perfect emerald, reflecting the daylight back at her stunned face in shimmering green rays.

"You- it's- " She looked up at him quickly, and his slight smile faded at the emotion in her gaze. "Thank you." Standing tiptoed, she put her arms around his neck to bring her lips to his and kissed him chastely, but it quickly developed into something more. They were both shivering when they parted, the chill of the water finally sinking to their bones in a demand for attention.

After Zeref had led her from the shallow pond, Mavis sat on a log while he warmed both their bodies—and dried his own saturated clothing—with a crackling magical fire. Watching the side of his profile discreetly, she saw a smile gracing his lips, as innocent as a child discovering a puppy on Christmas morning, and a feeling of warmth unfurled inside her chest. She had made him smile, if only for a moment.

"In ancient times, it was common folk lore to believe there was a vein running directly from the ring finger of the left hand to the heart," she said informatively.

"Alas, there isn't," Zeref replied. "But I kept with the tradition anyway."

She giggled lightly, savoring the gentle clasp of the band of precious metal around her finger, and he smiled again at her mirth.

"What are you looking for?" Mavis questioned, seeing him rifle through the contents of his pack.

"Mmh," he murmured distractedly. A moment later and a set of clothing landed in her lap. "I thought you might appreciate the warmth..."

For no particular reason, she felt the prickle of tears at the back of her throat. "You packed these for me? ...Thanks."

Zeref inclined his head. It was just one of the many little things that he did for her, but the gesture lost none of its worth to prevalence.

That evening they sat in front of the fire, listening to the far away hoot of a night owl as they engaged in one of the conversations that had the potential to both confuse and clarify simultaneously. Every word given and every moment together spent was necessary. The lighthearted atmosphere of before had vanished, replaced by the somber sentiments they were more accustomed to feeling as they discussed the nature of trust. Specifically, whether such a thing existed between those who believed another loved them yet thought themselves unlovable.

"I don't think it means you lack trust for the one who loves you," Mavis said thoughtfully, watching the smokeless flames coil and dance in elemental oblivion.

"At the very least, wouldn't disbelief of their opinion indicate doubt of their love?" Zeref countered, playing the devil's advocate.

"It's..." she paused, uncertain of the right words to say. Twisting the ring encircling her slender finger subconsciously, she went on, "It isn't like that. I would say it's analogous to trying to focus on a chart held close to your face when you're farsighted. It's not that you don't trust the chart, it's that you don't trust your eyes."

He was silent, the flickering flame sending writhing shadows across one side of his face. When he finally caught her gaze and held it, she was wrenched by the weary resignation present in his dark eyes. "You may be right. But when the truth is distorted, you begin to doubt more than merely your own sanity. Reality itself is called into question. I lost count of how many times I've pondered the dilemma, 'Is the world crazy, or am I?' "

Mavis looked down at her fisted hands, his words piercing her too deeply for comfort. "Zeref," she urged. "You need someone from the outside looking in to answer that question. I need you to trust me. Please."

"I want to, Mavis," he whispered.

"You will. I swear it." She leaned her head against his shoulder tiredly, nudging her hand beneath his larger one. "You don't lie, you just don't know what truth is yet. We're both guilty of that ignorance. But if there's one thing we have, it's time."

"I love you," he said unexpectedly, as though realizing the fact for the first time.

Mavis rubbed her cheek against the finely woven fabric of his tunic and murmured, "I love you, too. I'll keep saying it, as many times as it takes you to understand."

Rather than becoming defensive at the implication, he said quietly, "You have no idea what that means to me. Or perhaps you do..."

That moment of closeness would be their last before calamity struck.

A cool, somehow familiar female voice suddenly broke into the couple's privacy, ringing in the stillness it induced: "You have a companion? How intriguing."

Zeref was on his feet and facing the threat before the last word left her mouth. His nerves raced with intuitive unease as his mind attempted to place the voice alongside the face it belonged to. "Stay away from us," he warned hastily. Mavis didn't need to behold yet another death, and he would've pushed her behind him but she resisted his efforts and stood by his side firmly—a silent declaration of their bond.

However, their curse didn't have time to surge before the figure raised her hand. The frayed edge of a worn robe fluttered as she unveiled the overwhelming magical aura they hadn't sensed until that second.

"Amplification: Magnus Torpor!"

Caught off-guard, Zeref's entire torso was flooded with a sudden wave of lethargy. He swayed, barely able to stand against its inevitable pull. The urgency he should've felt to identify the threat, as well as the queer magic she was using, was dampened by the artificial gravity of an exaggerated apathy that was both physical and mental.

Mavis's eyes narrowed as she swiftly assessed the cloaked figure. Desperate not to let her feelings for Zeref interfere with years of ingrained strategical practice, she sized up the immense magic power flowing from their attacker.

It wasn't lost on her that the first offensive move had been directed solely at the Black Wizard, doubtless because he would prove to be the more powerful adversary should one face him on a battlefield—_But how would she know that? Zeref conceals his aura!_ Mavis didn't have time to ponder the question, nor identify the unknown type of caster magic their assailant was utilizing. So she obeyed the instincts clamoring for action.

Mavis may have served primarily as a tactician in most of Fairy Tail's battles during the Second Trade War and acted as the brains for the rest of her guild's professional endeavors, but she was far from defenseless. The thought flashed through her mind the split second after the surprise ambush.

Before she had taken a step forward, however, the hooded head of the attacker turned sharply and she canceled the spell she was using on Zeref in favor of focusing on the young girl traveling with him. She hadn't predicted the angelical blond's presence alongside her target, but the child possessed a weaker aura than her archenemy. Any advantage presented would be taken without mercy.

"Stand aside. I will harm you to obtain my objective, but not unless you refuse to listen to reason."

"I will _never_ stand by while the enemy hurts a comrade!" Mavis declared unhesitatingly, moments before the woman's voice cut off her own.

"Amplification: Contagion!"

Mavis had no time to brace before the pain was upon her, slicing through every primary organ in her body and wrenching a scream from her throat. Barely able to think, thoughts raced through her mind almost too quickly to grab hold of. _I've never read of this kind of magic—it's not even in the Lost Archives, yet it's so powerful!_

Zeref recovered from the unexpected onslaught of the spell near-instantaneously, pulled from his supernatural stupor by the sound of agonized shrieks. He didn't attempt to reason with himself, nor quell the aggression that spilled forth at the sight of her undersized body doubled over in agony.

Irises glowed a dangerous shade of red; the shade of blood. Sinister offensive magic thrummed to life in his hands for the first time in months, and he made no effort to subdue it. Indeed, he welcomed the generous fury and felt it blossom into bloodlust.

Condensing the ensuing rush of power and concentrating on its flow, he recklessly threw the sum of his anger at the one who dared attack them. She took a running leap to the side, dodging the onslaught with surprising agility as she was forced to break off her barrage on the girl.

Zeref readied another attack as Mavis panted for breath. He hoped her regenerative powers were enough to recover her bearings before their assailant could continue the inexplicable assault.

Suddenly, a different form of magic flickered through the air, one he recognized easily. Spatial magic. Teleporting behind him, the woman delivered a well-placed kick to his back, fracturing an intricately structured bone in his thoracic vertebral column and sending him flying forwards.

Zeref grunted in pain, using his palm to ease his descent, and somersaulted neatly to land in a crouch opposite her. His curse was already healing the shattered vertebrae, fragments flying together as calcium compounds were produced at an exponentially accelerated speed. It would take several more moments to erase the wrenching phantom of confused nerves shying away in pain, however.

No surprise at his spontaneous recovery was evident from the one who had dealt the blow, and she held both palms forward as magic energy snapped to attention in her fingertips yet again.

Before she could cast the spell, an unparalleled surge of magic energy made her glance in Mavis's direction. The look of anger in the girl's glare far outpaced her apparent youth, but it was the yellow glow of raw power in her right arm that gave the attacker pause.

That brief instant of hesitation was all it took for Zeref to charge her.

Grasping the necessity of putting an end to the fighting as quickly as possible, he steeled his body to cast one of the more powerful spells in his repertoire. This woman's magical capabilities rivaled even Irene's, and a feeling of dread had been building in him from the moment she first opened her mouth. Something wasn't right.

"Dark Abyss: Exploding Blade!"

This time the yell was his as Black magic swirling around him in suffocating eddies. The robed figure was blasted several yards back by his fist of death. Mavis gasped, covering her face with one elbow as the sheer power of the blow knocked her away from the two. The magic Zeref wielded could only be defined as pure, raw evil, yet she wasn't repulsed by it. It occured to her, as she felt the somehow familiar hum of darkness, that good and evil resided in one's intentions.

Panting, Zeref grew in tune to his power level in the ensuing silence. He couldn't keep this up. Not in his current state. Mavis was standing with wide eyes, but she quickly rectified her expression to run to his side. An exuberant cloud of dust had been disturbed by the attack, and by the light of the moon they watched as it slowly settled.

The robed woman was standing, though whether she had been so all along or had risen to her feet following the attack remained a mystery. "Amplification: Regeneration," she groaned, voice raspy with pain.

"No," Mavis exclaimed. "She can augment her own body as well?"

"Leave, now," Zeref ordered the girl at his side, wanting to ensure she wouldn't take the brunt of another attack. Fear made his voice harsh.

"What? Never!"

He didn't have time to repeat himself before he was hit with a sneak attack. Falling to his knees as a searing agony lit his nerves on fire, he bit through his tongue unwittingly to keep from crying out. It seemed his nerve endings had forgotten that additional signals of agony did not cancel out pre-existing agony. The spell was unlike any he'd felt, with no chinks in its caster's runes. It had been designed to incapacitate. His body rebelled against the destruction it should've sustained, working overtime to ensure all damage was momentary at best.

However, still nothing countered the pain, and he felt every millisecond as his vision whitened for an eternal moment. All he was aware of was a desire to survive, intentionally encouraging the regenerative aspect of his curse for the first time in his immortal life.

He had to survive. For her.

It was then that he heard it. A voice that had no character, no discernible accent or recognizable lilt, audible from within his head but far more profound than Telepathy. '_You have broken the cycle at last.'_

_'What do you mean?'_ Zeref called out through the misery, gritting his teeth against it.

_'None before you, bearing the same affliction, have done so.'_

The pain faded. The buzzing in his ears dissipated. He soon learned why when a shrill voice shouted, "Fairy Glitter!"

Zeref was vaguely aware of the one who had been giving life to the spell he was under teleporting from her position—just in time to avoid a blinding beam of light as it reigned down from the sky in a brilliant flash of righteous glory. He was knocked back several paces, bits of ruined wood and forest mulch showering his body as he fought to stand.

Aware that something about the voice represented the purpose of his life-long search, but distracted by the chaos around him, he asked,_ 'What affliction? Could you possibly mean-'_

The answer came as a whisper, a murmur, a somber incarnation of omniscience and mystery. _'Your curse.'_

_'There have been none before me!'_ It was an impossibility. He had entertained the idea before, but only as a bridge to purpose. As a place to start. The paradoxical impossibility of others bearing the curse- and losing it-

Mavis screamed, pinned beneath one of the woman's spells as she advanced quickly, and Zeref sent a blast of death magic hurling their assailant's way. The air was alive and snapping with energy, malice and power alike thrown between the participants as a kind of gruesome exchange.

_'You mean there are none _now._'_

Again that voice, persistent amidst the hectic battle. Realizing the implications of the correction, Zeref demanded_, 'Who are you?'_

_'One could say that I am you, and you are me.'_

Ignoring the nonanswer, he pressed, _'Why are you contacting me now?'_

Mavis was harnessing what remained of her power in her palms, transforming the normally gentle yellow aura into a gathering mass of offensive energy.

Zeref circled the mysterious attacker warily, as she took a moment to rise back to her feet. He nearly missed the voice's reply.

_'You overcame fate, and thus possess the power to embody me.'_

He skipped a beat at the declaration, his awareness torn from him. As a result, he presented the enemy with an opening. The next moment he was hit in the chest with a magical attack that knocked the oxygen from his lungs entirely. Curiously, it no longer mattered who gained the upper hand in the physical battle.

He ignored the grinding pain in favor of figuring out the conundrum presented. _'You're...'_ It was beginning to make sense, his brain piecing together the facts despite the turmoil around him. _'Ankhseram?'_

There was none of the hatred or accusation in that word that Zeref would have thought he'd feel upon finally meeting his nemesis. A strange numbness permeated his chest, wiping his mind of all emotion.

"Why are you attacking us?" he heard Mavis pant, and he started. It took a moment for his recovering brain to intuit that she wasn't asking Ankhseram. Just as they thought she would receive no answer from the robed figure, the woman said coldly, "To rid this earth of a scourge."

There was a subtle but definite emphasis placed on the last word.

A magic seal appeared at her fingertips, pulsing with the ill intent she was building for the slip of a girl in front of her. It was fairly obvious that while she meant no personal harm to his companion, she was more than willing to ruthlessly incapacitate her to reach _him_. Before the strange mage could cast the spell, he was on his feet, running to collide with Mavis a second before she would've succumbed to the attacker's singularly painful abilities once more.

Black magic condensed and pulsed in wavering eddies of power, and the couple was gone. A Teleportation spell, the robed one deducted, and a grim smile curved her mouth. They could run, but not very far without risking magical exhaustion. She could feel the trace amounts of magic energy in the air, and would waste no time determining their exact location. Zeref would suffer.

She was so close now to her goal, so close...

...

A few miles west, the subject of her thoughts rematerialized near a large oak tree. Zeref was grateful they hadn't appeared in the middle of a lake or some other equally difficult place, as one was likely to do when teleporting to an unknown location. Mavis felt small in his arms, and once more he was amazed that such a petite girl could possess the quantity of power his distracted core had sensed earlier.

But there were far more pressing matters on his mind at the moment. He relinquished his grip on her after ascertaining that she was physically healed, and ignored her worried look as the voice within continued its confusing disclosure.

_'I chose you, Zeref, because you possessed an unprecedented amount of potential. You wouldn't desist in your pursuit of the knowledge of life and death...a realm only the gods had deemed to frequent.'_

_'Chose me as in cursed me, Ankhseram?'_ he asked tonelessly, trying not to remember the centuries of pain he had endured at the whim of this divine being. The shock was fading, giving way to a new feeling. Becoming emotional was not the answer in this scenario. He knew this, yet it was difficult to quell the incredulous rage rising within him.

There was no answer, no explanation, from the other. The peace was short-lived.

"I found you," a smooth voice interrupted, seconds before Zeref doubled over in pain. "You can't escape yourself. There is no rest for the wicked."

She had indeed found them.

"What do you mean?!" Mavis erupted. The demand was an attempt to draw the attacker's attention away from Zeref, who was striving to piece together Ankhseram's words and construe their meaning. He was beginning to understand what the God of Life and Death had meant when he'd said they were one and the same; what he'd meant when he had claimed Zeref possessed the power to embody him. Were the legends true? The rumors surrounding those of Mildean descent...

Cloak flying behind her, the woman before them wasn't waiting for him to make sense of the puzzle. "May your own pain be used against you. Amplification: Mala-"

"Leave him alone!" It was Mavis again. She had risen to her feet, and interrupted the ominous incantation by entering her trademark magic into the fray. An Illusion of a giant wolf roared to life, wasting no time in doing its caster's will. Zeref watched in disbelief—did Mavis think a fleshless phantom would work on one as skilled as the mage they faced?—as the deranged animal raged towards the hooded woman. Fangs of gold sparkled with ethereal power, thick fur glinted in the dying moonlight.

Faced with the beast's fury, the figure cloaked in obscurity stood her stoic ground.

"Illusions won't work against-"

The smug voice was cut off as the beast knocked her over, savagely piercing twin holes in her shoulder. She screamed with shocked pain. Allowed an advantage, the powerful canine rampaged: little was seen of the scuffle but a blur.

Mavis stood panting in exhaustion, scarcely able to believe what she had just done. Her knees felt weak from an exertion existing independently of her physical body.

Released from the clutches of pain, Zeref watched as the woman knocked the beast back seconds before it could tear out her larynx, a metallic flash of lethal precision reflecting the moonlight before she drove her blade home between the wolf's shoulder blades. With a howl, it disappeared, and she regarded Mavis with dubious eyes shadowed by the cover of night.

Her hood had been shredded, leaving hair of an indeterminate color visible, but the lower half of her face remained a mystery due to an inky dark mask. "I underestimated you. But it matters not—Enhanced Amplification: Torpor!"

He should have reacted faster.

That was Zeref's first reactant thought as he and Mavis fell to their knees, the sudden smog of fatigue doubling their body weight and stripping them of the will to fight.

"Don't give in to it," he gasped, but Mavis was already on the ground, succumbing to the combination of low magic power and the effects of the spell.

_'You have more power than you realize.'_

This time he'd had a chance to think. Wincing at the renewed persistence of the voice within his head as he struggled against the attack, Zeref replied bluntly, _'Cease your fraudulence. If what you say is true, Mavis would be of Mildian descent as well, otherwise she wouldn't bear the same curse. You said you chose me but mentioned nothing of her.'_

There were too many questions. Each gave rise to the next, but some were far more important.

The god didn't answer, leaving his victim to fight off a ghastly creeping suspicion on his own. _'What did you mean when you said we were the same?'_

Silence weighed heavily on his soul in the stillness around him. Time seemed to slow. He wouldn't believe it. He wouldn't-

_'You were lonely. You needed a companion and there was only one way for that to become a reality._'

It was too much. The horrifying implications of what he had done in ignorance were unavoidable, but worse was the likelihood they were true. A gut-wrenching scream rent the air, sounding as though it came from afar off. It took Zeref several seconds to realize it was his own. The spell binding him no longer seemed relevant, its bonds of apathy no match for his boundless pain.

He had directly cursed Mavis. All of her pain was quite literally his fault.

As he watched the vengeful wizard approach like an angel of death, preying on Mavis's incapacitated body as well as his own, a barrier within Zeref crumbled. It was not Ankhseram who was his greatest enemy, but himself. In the confusion of his thoughts it became obvious that straining against the bonds of who he had assumed was his mortal enemy was self-defeating.

They were the same.

_'Give the pain you feel an outlet. Accept me into your vessel. Surely you would not wish her to be captured?'_

This time, the voice was welcomed. Its hostility flowed through him, heating the simmer of latent magic into a raging boil. For centuries he hadn't been able to consciously implement his powers because of ignorance, but he was determined to break that cycle there and then. Sweat dripped from his brow, burning a new path where tears had surrendered to the inevitable.

A cruel shard of steel arched through the air, aiming to incapacitate the lesser threat first. It dug into soft flesh, despite Mavis's painstaking effort to fight the spell long enough to turn aside. Blood saturated the ground beneath her.

"Takeover: God Soul!" The yell drowned out an involuntary shriek of pain, cutting short the calculating violence of the enemy.

Zeref's entire body seized in a paroxysm of change, death magic surging to vacate his soul in a pillar that knocked Mavis and the mysterious attacker several paces back. The very ground fractured beneath his feet as the spell reached its zenith. The sensation of pain became irrelevant, all his focus consumed with eliminating the threat. Oblivious to the black runes covering his rigid body or the white glow emitting from his eyes, Zeref had only to raise a hand and energy surged from his fingertips to suck the life from the figure opposing him.

She teleported behind his back, responding fluently despite her shock at the sudden exponential rise in power levels where there should be no change. Her raised hand readied a magical attack, but a voice froze her in place. It disregarded all power of will and commanded her attention.

"Hearken to my voice, mortal. You are in the presence"—he spun around, fist charged with unadulterated death—"OF A GOD!"

The woman raised shaking forearms to cross the front of her chest, hoping the shieldstone guards plating her arms would deflect the blow. Searing pain sliced through her as they were burned away, the attack eating into her skin like acid.

"I will not lose this fight!" she screamed, heedless of the impossible odds she was facing. Blood dripped from her hands, but she cast another self-healing spell and yelled, "Amplification: Adrenaline!"

It was one of her most effective spells yet, targeting the victim's own adrenal glands to produce an excess of adrenaline, resulting in a seizure when their body couldn't handle the copious amounts of hormones. Her eyes widened as Zeref—she didn't know how else to refer to this awe-instilling creature—broke through the spell as if it was nothing.

"I hold the power to deliver life and death. For you, I choose death!" the roaring voice was impossibly young, alien and horrible. Youthful hands lifted as his magic power levels fluctuated yet again.

She was outmatched. Making a decision the split second before the deadly spell was cast, the challenger summoned what remained of her magic power and made a strategic retreat, resolving to live to finish the battle another day.

Ankhseram felt the disturbance in the air pressure around him and knew she had teleported. Staring at the place she had been, he was pulled from his reverie by a trembling, high-pitched voice.

"Zeref?" Mavis propped herself up on one elbow, struggling to get to her feet as her body finished healing its superficial wounds. Every limb quivered with magical expenditure and damage.

"Zeref exists no longer," he answered absolutely. His gaze turned to her with holy power.

"You are a liar! I know he can hear me...Ankhseram." She spat the word venomously.

The outburst was unexpected, her instant identification taking him by surprise. Curiously, he felt an emotion he had forgotten he possessed stirring at the girl's arrogance.

Anger.

But it didn't shut her up. "You may be able to take him over, but if he had the power to accept you, he can also reject you!"

Oh, she was brave, he would give her that. Advancing on her prone body, he lifted his finger and pointed it at her chest leisurely. The human needed to be taught a lesson; apparently no one had warned her of the dangers of defying a god. Yes, his plan of possessing his vessel completely would be compromised if Mavis interfered.

She didn't flinch in the face of his calm wrath, ignoring the impulse to look away from the searing light in his eyes and staring him down fearlessly. If only she had more magic power—perhaps, just perhaps, Fairy Law would work in vanquishing the imposter from Zeref's body. Ironic, that she would contemplate turning to the very spell that caused the curse in order to vanquish the curser.

One thing was sure: this thing was not Zeref. Ankhseram was inhabiting his outer shell, but it was in his authority to expell him, she was certain.

"Zeref!" Mavis screamed, seconds before the beam of darkness shot forth from the hand she knew so well to pierce her chest vengefully.

Burning pain rushed through her, excruciating in its severity, and she wheezed through dry lips. Trying to say his name and failing was the last thing she could remember before mercifully falling unconscious, her mind unable to endure the physiological impossibility of such prolonged agony.

Time passed and was dulled in her inability to differentiate between sluggishness and pain.

Mavis awoke to a hushed voice and the dull rushing of blood in her ears. The world around her slowly came into focus as she blinked. Zeref was crouched beside her, knees digging into the rough ground, face devoid of all expression as he repeated her name over and over. His voice was curiously light.

"I'm fine," she croaked, struggling to sit up. Her regenerative powers were slowed due to the depletion of magic power and her chest ached dully, but she was certain it was only momentary and did her best to ignore the tingling burn of the severed nerves along her back. The sky was grey, dawn's first light barely beginning to illuminate the sky to the east.

Zeref didn't move to help her, keeping his hands to his sides as he sat several conspicuous feet away. He could barely meet her gaze, head aching with countless questions and realizations.

"Ankhseram?" Mavis whispered.

"He's gone," Zeref answered, wincing as he said the words. Wondering how much truth they held. "I broke the Takeover spell."

He didn't apologize for the pain she was in as she propped herself against a tree wearily; saying the words aloud would be superfluous in the face of all the damage he had caused at this point.

"I have a confession to make," she said, holding her side as she observed the physical and magical fatigue etched on his features. "I listened in on your conversation with Ankhseram, from the moment I first sensed you were using Telepathy."

Zeref's eyes widened with horror. His gaze snapped to hers in disbelief. Throughout the night, he had debated when to tell her who he was and what he was responsible for, still not reaching a decision by the time she awoke. A large part of him had yearned to simply walk away, doubtless influenced by the curse, but he hadn't been able to leave her any more than he had been able to keep his distance in Alcazar.

"You _know?"_ he asked with soft incredulity. He would have expected some change in tone or mannerisms to be present, but in her eyes was the same guileless acceptance they had always held for him. Instead of cringing away in fear, Mavis was leaning towards him with a worried look on her face. She was concerned..._for him,_ when only hours earlier she had been doubled over in agony by his hand.

Vaguely, he heard in an echo of memory her soft voice thanking him, that day that had marked a decade after their first meeting. _Thanking him._ After he had-

"Zeref, please listen to me. We can figure this out together, like everything else. Don't shut me out."

"I-" he gasped, suddenly overcome with a bout of maniacal laughter that caught him unawares. "I _cursed_ you!"

"No," Mavis said weakly, shaking her head. "You had no way of knowing. It was Ankhseram's doing."

Such childlike trust and innocence should not have been possible.

His mirthless laugh faded as suddenly as it had started, and Zeref took inventory of her bruised body quietly. When he spoke, his voice was laced with equal parts wonder and self-reproach.

"All this time, have I had the ability to lift this wretched curse but was too blinded by self-pity to see it?" He had been too idiotic to believe the legends that those of Mildian descent were able to harness the power of the gods.

No, not harness. Embody.

"What do you mean?" she asked quietly.

"In the midst of the battle, you might remember Ankhseram claiming I have more power than I realize. If I was able to curse you..."

"Then it could work in reverse?" Her voice contained the barest glimmer of hope, clutching the prospect of freedom with desperation.

"For you? ...Yes," he replied slowly, as though comprehending the fact for the first time.

The realization drained the blood from Mavis's face. She opened her mouth to tell him not to even think about it, that they would find a way out together, but the disloyal thought of how peace after all the months of chaotic sorrow would feel temporarily silenced the words.

"I am ignorant of my actions no longer," Zeref was saying slowly, staring as though he was laying eyes on her for the very first time. "All I must do is will the curse to be lifted from you-"

"No!" she cried, and he blinked in surprise at the outburst.

"Mavis...?"

"If you did that, your own curse would kill me if we stayed together."

"Yes," he affirmed, struggling not to think of the consequences of the proposition he was about to make. "But if you were to leave, although I recognize that I may eventually decide to pursue you if the contradictory nature of this affliction were to get the better of me-"

"Stop." The word came out as a whimper but she couldn't help it. Tears filled her eyes. "Even if that would work, I- I wouldn't want you to lift it if it meant you would suffer alone."

"It's the curse making you say that, Mavis." That soft voice fractured. Black eyes flashed with desperation. "You don't know the meaning of an eternity!"

"I know the meaning of love!" Pushing herself from the tree, she crawled towards him painstakingly, ignoring the way his expression twisted in denial.

"I can't live with this. I can't be with you, knowing that..." He lapsed into silence as she laid a hand on his knee, fighting the impulse to flinch away. Hours ago, he would've thought himself incapable of ever willingly relinquishing the only person he could love. Had he truly just offered to do precisely that?

Zeref shuddered, his resolve fleeing as he reached out to drag Mavis's small form into his arms roughly. His tight hold on her contradicted his earlier words, crushing her body to his chest uncompromisingly. His disgust for himself grew by leaps as he realized he couldn't do it.

Now that he was presented with the choice to lift her Curse of Contradiction at the expense of their compatibility, he was consciously choosing to pass it up. Bile rose in his throat.

Her arms tightened around his waist as she returned his hug ferociously, heedless of the pain, and gasped, "I would rather spend an eternity of confused love with you, than a lifetime of clear-minded loneliness by myself. It isn't your choice to make."

"It all makes sense now," he groaned, breaking down. "How I was able to master Life magic and create the Etherious. The reason you didn't die when I confessed my love to you, willing you to stay alive more than anyone I had met before. The reason I was unharmed. Perhaps even the reason August was safe, and certainly the reason we were both unaffected in Alcazar—I had gained more control over my power-"

"Zeref," she interrupted. "You are not Ankhseram. What you did wasn't intentional, it was subconscious...and we're still together now. Isn't that all that matters?"

"Not if the reason for our unity is my own selfishness!" His voice rose to a near shout in the chilly air around them as the murky daylight grew stronger. It would be an overcast day.

"I forgive you," Mavis choked, tears dampening his smudged toga.

He had the distinct feeling that she would forgive him for anything, and the knowledge disturbed rather than comforted him. "I'm so sorry," he whispered brokenly. The intensity had drained, leaving him cold. "Mavis, I'm-"

"Don't," she warned, squeezing him. "I love you."

Zeref couldn't repeat the words, no longer certain of their meaning. Unbidden, the memory of Ankhseram's accusations rose to mind. He grasped Mavis's shoulders to move her off his lap firmly, unable to handle the feeling of their embrace at the moment.

She didn't protest, sensing he needed space, and instead asked, "Why did you use that Takeover spell? It was dangerous."

He looked away, focusing his gaze on the dewy ground as it became more visible by the minute. "I feared I would unwittingly lift your curse once I was aware of how you received it, and that may have proved fatal for you at the time because of the person attacking us."

She considered the thought, a furrow appearing on her brow. "I believe I may have a theory as to why Ankhseram provoked you into using it."

"Yes?" he asked expectantly.

"I may be wrong, but...he wasn't planning on your termination of the spell."

Zeref winced again, suppressing the sudden, restless urge to incur physical damage as he remembered his reaction upon seeing Mavis bloody and passed out on the ground before him, upon recognizing his own magical signature on her wounds.

"I see what you mean," he said slowly. "He expected the origins of your curse to horrify me into losing control...and it worked."

"But his plan did not," she pointed out, a triumphant note entering her voice. "For now, he's been vanquished. The next puzzle is why he would need a Takeover spell to truly inhabit you."

Remembering all the god had revealed, Zeref posited, "I'm beginning to think...no, that isn't right."

"What?"

"If Ankhseram must have a vessel to survive, then I am the only reason he hasn't been confined to history."

"He did allude to the fact that there have been others before us who bore his mark," Mavis agreed slowly.

"Which is another legend I had heard but didn't quite believe, the first being the Mildians' capacity for embodying the gods." Zeref sighed quietly, feeling a migraine coming on.

"Why would he initiate contact with you now, after all these decades?" she asked, a hint of anger creeping into her voice. "All these years you've suffered as if for nothing-"

"He said I had broken the cycle of wishing to die upon receiving the curse, which made no sense at the moment...but now it seems as though that was a requirement for embodiment."

"Right. Ankhseram _is_ a god of contradictions," she mused. "Overcoming life with death, the nature of our curse itself—it's in his very name. I would expect nothing less from the God of Life and Death."

"It is no less confusing, but perhaps that is something we must accept," Zeref yielded. "He used the chaotic atmosphere of the battle to his advantage. A wise move, I must admit."

Shifting on the hard ground, Mavis sought a more comfortable position. Her wounds had healed, the trusty old curse seeking to mend her body as she regained her magic. It did come in handy sometimes, she thought, before experiencing a wonted flicker of horror at the thought.

"Something isn't right," she mentioned, quietly. "I feel like there's an important discovery we're missing."

_Such as all the people you've killed?_ Zeref heard inside his head, and this time he was uncertain whether the voice belonged to Ankhseram or himself.

Mavis didn't hear the words, but she saw their dreaded effects. Her expression changed to one of concern. "Him again?"

"I don't...know," he muttered, clutching his head with one hand as the throbbing ache in his head sharpened, reverberated through his skull. "All those people I killed...and I might have been able to prevent it all along-"

"You know why you shouldn't blame yourself," she echoed the words he had spoken to her the night before last.

"No, I don't," he said simply, voice devoid of any emotion.

_You cursed her. Every soul she has taken is on your hands as well_.

Shaking his head, Zeref willed the voice to silence itself, flinching as it went on. _But on top of that, you would not even release her from her affliction when presented with the option. You would rather drag her with you through a path of heartache, unwavering even when others attack her for the sins you committed._

"Zeref!" Mavis's plea reached him at last, and he looked at her face with that same awful intensity—as though he didn't recognize her. If eyes were windows to the soul, his was saturated with horror.

"Don't listen to that voice," she ordered tremulously, sitting up on her knees as though she wanted to touch him. "Please. It's lying to you."

"I can't do this anymore," he said imploringly, and a feeling of dread paralyzed her limbs. "You could be happy, you could live a life free of suffering-"

"What?" she said in a small voice. The word seemed to echo.

"I've brought you more pain and misery than I ever did joy. Such has been the result with every interaction I've had with mankind."

"That's not true!" she burst out, breaking into his pain-filled monologue full of intent to elaborate on how many different ways he was wrong. But Zeref wasn't listening, lost in the realization of his own perceived selfishness.

"You don't understand," he bit out, boring into her eyes with a desperate intensity, and with a sinking feeling she realized he was right. She didn't understand.

"Zeref," she whispered through numb lips.

"I know what I must do now, Mavis. You can go to Vistarion afterwards and take our son—I'm certain Irene would relinquish him to you after I speak with her via lacrima. Perhaps it would be best to raise him in Ishgar."

"...Afterwards?" she repeated, with growing incredulity. "What are you saying?"

"I'm going to break your curse."

A million memories filled her mind, of all she endured alone—and then of all they had endured together through the last year. She blinked in incromprehension, before the reality of what he was saying crashed into her chest. "But...then we couldn't be together anymore. You want me to leave you?"

"The boy needs a mother more than a father, and you deserve a peaceful life. I have had it with my own selfishness. Please forgive me, Mavis." Zeref's voice broke as he spoke her name, and she stared in disbelief.

It wasn't until he shifted forward to grasp her arm that she jolted in denial. "But-"

Hunting for an excuse, she settled on the first that came to mind and prayed he would fall for it. "What about the wizard who attacked us? She wasn't finished, and I might be seriously injured if she found me without my regenerative ability."

"It was I she was after," Zeref answered grimly. "I will deal with her alone."

_No no no no-_

The wretched futility of changing his mind was mist on the flames of her resolve to do so. This could not be happening. Mavis couldn't hold back the tears that filled her eyes any more than she could bring herself to accept that he would truly consign their love to memory. "Why do you want to do this?"

"For you," he answered instantly. "You don't see it now, but you would've been happier if you'd never met me. It isn't too late—you can find your friends-"

"I don't care about any of that!"

Trying to pull her arm from his grip though every impulse protested the movement, she gasped when he pushed her over onto the ground. Zeref settled over her prone form in determination. She looked up at him as her heart pounded with panic, their faces mere inches apart. "Zeref, you matter more than anything else to me."

"And I've hurt you more than anyone else has," he answered, pulled into her emerald eyes with the same gravity he had always felt. "I'm sorry, Mavis."

"No!" she cried suddenly, finally spurred into action as she realized he wouldn't listen to reason. The Teleportation spell he was preparing to use was familiar enough for her to recognize the danger of allowing him to cast it. Bracing tremulous hands against his chest, she pushed with all her might. Her heart fractured as she saw his eyes water.

"I'm sorry," he repeated brokenly, as she realized the futility of struggling against his hold. The dark tendrils were wrapping around her core, and Mavis knew she would be caught in the spell whether she resisted or not.

Unyielding hands closed around her slender wrists, deliberately overpowering her for the first time as he pinned them on either side of her head forcefully, and she gasped at the ease with which he did it.

"Please stop this," Mavis begged, unable to counter the abysmal force of his magic as it overwhelmed her. _"Please,_ Zeref!"

He didn't stop.

The drab gray of the daylight around them began to morph and blur into a kaleidoscope of colors, space whirling around them in a vortex of power as the laws of matter itself were defied. She kept her eyes open despite the nausea and splitting headache she knew it would induce afterwards, holding onto his empty gaze with every fiber of her being as her skin crawled with the familiar sensation of dematerialization.

Their world was dissolving around them.

Before her dazed brain could capture what was happening, he lowered his head to hers, and her senses were filled with the sudden pressure of warm lips molding her own: a silent question. Her eyes slid shut on their tears, and she surrendered to him without hesitation: an involuntary answer. If Zeref had driven a knife into her stomach and then wanted to kiss her goodbye, Mavis still would've opened to him, and she did so now as he drove his tongue past her lips with a fatalistic need. Within the desperate clasp of his hands, her straining wrists slackened in capitulation.

The discombobulating feeling of the spell wore off to leave them lying on a different terrain. The sun shone on Zeref's back as he lifted his mouth from hers. She jerked her head off the ground in a Pavlovian response to the loss, then opened her eyes to look into his tearfully, refusing to accept what that kiss had meant-

"Goodbye, Mavis."

_**A/N:** Kudos to whoever understood this hectic turn of events, though I did try not to let it get impossibly confusing._

_You may have caught an Einstein quote near the beginning of this chapter, and an Ayn Rand one in the last. Guilty—they just seemed to fit so well, I couldn't help myself. Thanks for reading, and I hope you've all had a marvelous week! Your support is greatly appreciated._

_In light of recent reviews, I deemed it prudent to clarify the apparent discrepancy between Ankhseram's train of thought in Chapter 4 and the events in Chapter 18: Deceiving himself regarding how much power he had over Zeref, Ankhseram deemed for Mavis to nearly die and Zeref to suffer in some misbegotten sense of judgement. However, the latter wielding more control over the curse than he realized was the real reason she survived. Ankhseram and Zeref are basically one in the same - not in motive, but in power (though the god's power is dormant to his ability to wield it if he is not in absolute possession of a vessel): Zeref did in fact curse her, on a subconscious level. _

_In short, it's no accident that Ankhseram is incoherent. I wrote him with the sense that deities aren't the immortal, all-powerful, all-knowing beings we assume them to be. And he came out to be a bit confused as a result, but contradiction is an integral part of his character. _


End file.
